Away with You
by Allsnjill
Summary: Buffy tries to make a fresh start and takes Dawn away from Sunnydale. However, things don’t go as planned as Spike and someone who shouldn’t exist challenge every truth Buffy has ever known, finding she must choose who to believe and who to fight.
1. The Gift

**Author's Note:** This story follows the TV show from Season five's _The Gift_ to Season six's _After Life_. After that, I'll take off in my own direction, so don't be fooled by the first few chapters. This will be a novel length story. I hope you enjoy and I appreciate all reviews

**Disclaimer: **These characters are made by Joss Whedon. I do not own them.

**Chapter 1: The Gift**

They were stuck. Buffy was away somewhere battling Glory, and they were stuck.

Spike let out a feral growl against his teeth, glancing up at the jagged, crooked tower that loomed over them, setting the scene for this nightmare. Niblet was up there. His faced struggled as the demon in him felt his anger and frustration, but he kept his composure. He would not risk the slightest distraction from his task. His eyes closed for a brief second remembering what Buffy had asked of him.

_"I'm counting on you to protect her."_

He knew where he stood: nothing but a soulless, fangless vampire. But, god what he would do for her…. She would never love him, he knew that. But she trusted him. And now that he finally had it, he was not about to let her down.

But when he opened his eyes, he found himself in the same predicament. Trapped.

"Has anyone else noticed that we're going backwards?" Anya shouted above the sounds of the horde that had caused them to be in this very situation.

Spike glanced from the cover that he had taken along with Anya and Giles only to be smacked square in the face with a brick. Ducking back down, he replied with an annoyed grimace, "It's crossed my mind."

"As long as ... Buffy can keep Glory down ... long enough, it doesn't matter." Giles panted, recovering for the moment. He glanced up at the towering structure that laid before them. "There's only a few minutes left to start the ritual."

Anxiously baring his teeth, Spike let out an impatient snarl. Waiting was most definitely not his style. He needed to do something, anything! But every time he made the slightest motion to go forward, he found himself, "Trapped!" he muttered silently, finally voicing the thought that had been echoing in his mind.

Just as he was about to punch his cover box in frustration, he heard Xander come up to join them. Knowing the ponce would most likely have nothing to share, he set his sights back up on the tower were Dawn was being held. It was then he noticed that someone had joined Dawn at the very top. His body froze as dread glued him to where he stood.

"Someone's up there!" Spike spoke, not even paying attention to what they said in reply. His eyes peered back and forth between the scene in front of him to the scene above him. He saw no opening anywhere, but regardless of this fact, his body tensed up as he began to prepare himself for a charge when suddenly he heard Red's voice.

"Spike." His eyes widened. He gave only the slightest moment of appreciation of Willow's magic skill and went straight back to focusing on what she was saying. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah. Loud and clear." The other looked at him bewildered .

"Is someone up there with Dawn?

"Yeah, can't tell who," Spike replied grimly.

"Are you talking to us?" Xander cut in, but Spike ignored him pointedly, concentrating on Red.

"Get up there. Go now." Willow's voice resonated.

Spike looked uncertainly at the scene that lay before him. There were a hefty set of minions ready to gladly fight to the death and crazies with an unpredictable lack of control. "Yeah, but-"

"Go!"

Finding that her voice gave him all the reason that he was looking for, Spike got up and charged forward. His eyes were set on the goal that was set before him, which at the moment, was to get to the tower stairs. He barely noticed the hordes being pushed aside by an invisible source, courtesy of Tara and Willow.

He finally had the opening and opportunity he was looking for. He charged forward encompassed with a new sense of power and purpose. The demon inside of him growled in pleasure for the opportunity to finally fight and be free from his confinement. It growled and leapt at every opportunity to fight a minion that found himself in Spike's path. But Spike himself barely took notice of what his body was doing, and only concentrated on one thing.

"I'm counting on you… to protect her."

And he would.

"Spike!" Dawn cried out in a relieved and desperate dry sob. He finally had reached the top, taking an unnecessary breath of air as he came face to face with the walking dead, or so it would seem.

"Doesn't a fella stay dead when you kill him?" He cocked off as he came in contact with the Doctor.

"Look who's talking," the Doctor stated with a smile.

It was then that Spike looked at Dawn for the first time. Although relieved to find her unharmed just scared witless, he did not relax. He focused back on the Doctor, this time, noticing the knife in his hand. His clenched his fists. "Come on Doc. Let's you and I have a go," he stated with a jeer.

The Doctor tapped his knife, "I have… a prior appointment."

His eyes narrowed, "This won't take long."

The sick Doctor only grinned, "No, I don't imagine it will."

Enraged, Spike let his inner demon loose. He lunged forward, ready to switch to game face and kill this piece of dirt that was blocking him from his task that Buffy had given him. But during this vital moment, as Spike's emotions raged in a hot anger, the Doctor's cool, detached manner had the upper hand. He used Spikes barreling motion, and sidestepped around it, grabbing Spikes neck as he rushed past. Spike barely had the time to realize his dilemma before the Doctor plunged his knife into Spike's back.

He barely heard Dawn's gasp over his own intake of air. Damn it! He pulled himself away from the knife and only gave the slightest groan of pain as he placed himself between Dawn and the Doctor.

"You don't come near the girl, Doc," Spike threatened as he tried to ignore the pain that was radiating from his back. He faced the Doc square and straight as he pushed past the knife wound and the resulting blood loss that had made his body exponentially weaker.

The Doctor looked pleasantly confused, "I don't smell a soul anywhere on you. Why do you even care?"

Spike didn't even hesitate, "I made a promise to a lady." His eyes narrowed, and that's all I need, he finished mentally.

"Oh?" the Doc commented as if they were engaged in small talk. But his actions finally deceived his tone and mannerism as his mouth opened to reveal his long and disgusting snake of a tongue. As it shot toward Spike, he desperately lunged away. For the first time in a long time Spike felt panic that started in the pit of his stomach that rose to the top of his chest as the Doctor's tongue wrapped around his legs and pulled him forward. He struggled with every ounce of his remaining energy and then some. But he was unable to escape the Doctor's grasp. He could only look at Dawn. His little Niblet. He felt bile rising in his throat in sick horror "Then I'll send the lady your regrets."

Spike had only a moment to whisper, "No!" as he kept his eyes on Dawn, her face mirroring the very pain and fear that Spike felt at that exact moment. As he felt his feet leave the ground, Spike heard her desperate cry break in out in a voice he had never heard from her before. And it was her voice and her anguish that was in his head when his body finally made contact with the ground below.

* * *

God I hope I'm not too late.

This was the thought in Buffy's mind as she stood up straight, breathing heavily as she finally found herself able to drop the Troll God's Hammer. Ben, who had been Glory only moment before, was looking up at her with fear and confusion. Yes, it would be safer to kill him, but at the moment, she didn't trust herself to make a decision. Her mind was elsewhere. More specifically, her sister, or the key, or whatever you wanted to call her these days. But she meant everything to Buffy, and right now, that was all she could think of. So before ever letting herself second guess her decision, she left Ben and headed straight for the tower where Dawn was sure to be.

She rushed into the horde of madness. She briefly saw Willow and Tara standing hand in hand making motions here and there to help aid the remaining Scooby Gang. As soon as they saw her making way forward, they're faces gave similar determined, tight smiles only to snap a look back to the crowd in front of her as the minions and crazies careened out of her way, giving her a clear path to the tower. Even though she was grateful for their help and happy to see Tara back to herself, Buffy still paid them no attention as her mind was still focused on one person. Dawn.

As she made her way up the tower that had to be the most structurally unsound building she had ever set foot on, she whirled around each staircase loop, finding the path relatively clear, which surprised her. She expected to find at least a baker's dozen worth blocking her from their precious key, but she barely registered it as she willed her legs to move faster than humanly (or slayery) possible. As she reached to the top ladder that would bring her to the platform where Dawn was at, she heard her sister's cries. When she finally climbed the last ladder rung, her sister caught sight of her. Buffy saw the figure in front of her sister, but more importantly, she caught a glint of silver speckled with dark, crimson spots. A knife, Buffy thought in horror, with my sister's blood.

"Buffy!" Dawn cried with pain. The Doctor turned around, and advance toward her.

Buffy, paying no attention to the demon in front of her or to what he was saying simply shoved the Doctor out her way off the platform, sending him to his death. Not taking the time to bask in the satisfaction of killing the monster that dare harm her sister, she went straight to Dawn.

"Here," she motioned to her sister, eager to separate her from the bounds that had kept her in place.

"Buffy, it hurts!" Dawn gasped. Buffy examined her carefully and finally found her gaze at her feet. There was blood. And lots of it. She felt something akin to horror when she saw it, but she grabbed frantically on to a small strand of hope; she didn't see a portal that looked anything like Hell being unleashed on Earth. With that in mind, she tried to calm both herself and Dawnie as she said "I got it. Come here. You're gonna be okay." She tried desperately to get the wounded, limping Dawn moving, "Go!" Buffy cried out desperately.

But Dawn was looking at something behind them both. "Buffy, it's started."

Buffy turned, setting her eyes unwillingly on the light that shone before them. It had only taken a second, but the portal had been opened. Its lights slowly grew and began to crackle with obscenely high levels of magics. She could only gaze in horror to the scene in front of her. The wide expansion of pure energy was growing more violent as time went on, sending rays haphazardly in every sort of direction. She could hear and feel the ground below shake and groan under this new element that had entered the atmosphere. She could hear people screaming off in the distance. She could feel the weight of the enormity of the situation of her shoulders. But what she focused on most was one thought.

She had been too late.

She slowly turned back to Dawn who was crying as if the whole thing were her fault, "I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter." That wasn't good enough for Dawn, she tried to tear past Buffy. Her eyes went wide as she grabbed Dawn, "What are you doing?"

"I have to jump. The energy," Dawn motioned to the destruction that was set in front of them.

No! Buffy screamed in her mind, "It'll kill you!"

"I know," Dawn softly said, barely looking at Buffy as she said it, "Buffy, I know about the ritual. I have to stop it."

Buffy refused to listen, "No." The earth gave another groan as the portal sent another crackle of energy toward the ground.

"I have to!" Dawn insisted, "Look at what's happening… Buffy, you have to let me go. Blood starts it, and until the blood stops flowing, it'll never stop." Buffy could only look at her sister, at a loss. The amount of love she felt for her sister at this moment was incomparable. The fact that she would give her own life… to save… but Buffy shook her mind free of that thought. She had vowed to protect Dawn from that fate no matter what. Even if it means protecting her from making the choice on her own. But how else could they stop it? She looked back with an anguished look to Dawn, "You know you have to let me." Dawn sobbed softly. "It has to have the blood."

The blood? Why is she saying it like that? Buffy thought despairingly. It is her blood, our blood! Her mind rang out. And then she stopped.

Our blood.

Her mind began to race over everything that had happened and all that she had learned this year. The monks had made Dawn from her; she was a part of her. If Dawn's blood could stop the apocalypse, then why not hers? Her mind was just beginning to wrap around this idea when she came back to what the first slayer had told her.

Death is your gift.

The sun had finally come out, being only minutes late from preventing the portals opening. Buffy should have been angry, but all she could do was smile. It all finally made sense, and her body and face mirrored this new sense of knowledge. A new resolution began flooding Buffy's very being. She knew what she had to do. She didn't want to put the thought into words, but all she could think was that she would take Dawn's place. And when she looked at her sister, Dawn could see her plan in her eyes.

"Buffy…" she said, her eyes full of terror, "no!"

"Dawnie I have to."

"No!"

Buffy closed her eyes for a brief moment. What do you say to someone at the end? God, there was so much. "Listen to me." Dawn shook her head, tears flying off her face in the process. "Please," Buffy pleaded gently, "there's not a lot of time, listen."

She placed her hands tenderly on Dawns arms and drew a breath inward to calm herself. Her chest felt an energy similar to what she had felt when she had found out she was the Slayer, when she had discovered her mother dead, and when she realized that Dawn had been kidnapped. It was similar to all of that nervous, high energy with one distinction; she was in control. She was able to make this decision so she might spare her sister. Knowing this, Buffy exhaled slowly and was able to find the words.

"I love you. I will always love you." She gave Dawn a gentle smile, "But this is the work that I have to do. Tell Giles...," Buffy paused. There were so many things to say to her watcher and surrogate father, but she had to be succinct, "tell Giles I figured it out. And, and I'm okay." She bit her lip softly she thought of all the people she owed a final word to… her best friends, Willow and Xander… Anya and Tara too, and even Spike, who had helped them despite their tense relationsh—well, whatever you wanted to call it. Angel, her first love… and it would seem her last. Even Riley flitted in there, but she shook away the images of those nearest and dearest to her, and simply said, "And give my love to my friends. I have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each other." Dawn looked down, her sobbing increasing, but just as Buffy was about to raise her hand to Dawn's chin, she raised her face to continue to hear her sister's last words. "You have to be strong. Dawn, the hardest thing in this world... is to live in it. Be brave. Live. For me."

No longer able to keep her at arm's distance, Buffy drew her in her arms and held tight as she could without hurting her in her delicate condition and placing a kiss softly on her cheek. She was so proud to have such a wonderful young woman for a sister. And Buffy, although afraid of what would happen, could not think of a better way to go then protecting the person she loved most in this world.

With that thought in her mind, Buffy whirled around and sprinted toward the edge of the ledge so Dawn would not have the opportunity to stop her. With every step she took, she felt her resolve not growing weaker, but stronger, as if she was not alone in this, like something, or someone was helping her every step of the way. And as she leapt off the platform she looked directly ahead, the energy she had been holding inside of her left her chest and all that was left was her.

For a moment, everything was quiet.

Her life did not flash before her. She simply closed her eyes as she fell toward the Earth. She found herself sinking into a surreal calm with the assurance that everything would be alright. This was all she knew and felt when she hit the portal. She was…

Gone.

* * *

Spike opened his eyes slowly. He had not blacked out, but he was unable to function. He had fallen God knows how many feet after all. He tried to pull himself together. Buffy was counting on him to protect Dawn. He had no right to spend his time trying to recuperate. But try has he might, his body refused to do what his mind wanted. He could only move in slow, half motions.

Suddenly, a bright light began to shine over him. He struggled with his duster as he tried to pull it over his head thinking it was the sun, but he stopped when he caught a glance of what was happening above him.

The portal had been opened. The portal had been opened and he had been unable to stop it.

Spike clenched his teeth together and shouted out in frustration. It was then the Earth started to shake under him and finally, cracked underneath the stress of the portal. As he rolled himself away from it, he struggled to rise to his feet, but he kept collapsing upon himself. He was pretty sure that the majority of his limbs were broken or fractured in some sort, but as far as he was concerned, if he was alive, it was his duty to help Buffy protect Dawn from those who would undoubtedly try to kill her to stop the portal. He was prepared to face an eternity of hell on Earth, as long as it was what Buffy wanted in order to keep Dawn safe.

He glanced at the scene around him. The hordes had all scattered and disappeared by this point so at least he didn't have to worry any hassle from them. Slowly, by gripping on a random piece of debris, he was able to rise to his feet, if only by pure will. He slowly began to limp his way to the tower stair entrance. Each step took an enormous amount of effort and a painful amount of time. He was only halfway there, when suddenly the portal stopped and the Earth promptly deceased its shaking.

For a moment, everything was quiet. The evaporated portal seemed to have vacuumed up ever sound and every movement with it. It was as though the powers to be themselves hit a giant mystical pause button so they could catch their breath for what would happen next. Spike found himself frozen, not with dread and not with fright. Just… frozen. Waiting for a sign to move forward.

And then his cue came. In the form of a loud and sickening crunch.

It was that sound that fast forwarded him back to the current situation. It was a crunch, that was all too familiar to Spike, for it was the same sound he made when he had fallen from the tower.

No longer able to feel his injuries, Spike could only move toward the spot where he heard the sound. The panic he had felt minutes before, returned in full force as he rushed to the presumed crash site "No, no… not Dawn! No!' He kept saying to himself, keeping his emotions at bay until he could see with his own eyes.

As he rounded the corner he saw the Scoobies standing in shock. "No!" he breathed desperately once again. He moved quickly forward, but he was soon hit by the sun's rays. His body forced him to duck away to avoid sure incineration, but he wouldn't allow any further delays, no more pauses. He forced his eyes upon the crash site.

And then he saw her.

Buffy.

He did nothing but stare in shock. This can't be right. This is wrong, no, No, NO! he kept thinking to himself over and over. He somehow heard a sound above him, and saw Dawn walking down the stairs, her skin blood and tear streaked as she too focused her attention at the body that once held Buffy. He slowly moved his face to her broken body once again. His beloved Buffy. His body finally collapsed as his head fell into his hands, sobbing. His Buffy… now….

Gone.

And he had failed her.


	2. Dreams of Promises

**Chapter 2: Dreams of Promises**

_He finally had the opening and opportunity he was looking for. He charged forward encompassed with a new sense of power and purpose. The demon inside of him growled in pleasure for the opportunity to finally fight and be free from his confinement. It growled and leapt at every opportunity to fight a minion that found himself in Spike's path. But Spike himself barely took notice of what his body was doing, and only concentrated on one thing._

"I'm counting on you… to protect her."

_And he would._

_"Spike!" Dawn cried out in a relieved and desperate dry sob. He finally had reached the top, taking an unnecessary breath of air as he came face to face with the walking dead, or so it would seem._

_"Doesn't a fella stay dead when you kill him?" He cocked off as he came in contact with the Doctor._

_"Look who's talking," the Doctor stated with a smile._

_It was then that Spike looked at Dawn for the first time. Although relieved to find her unharmed just scared witless, he did not relax. He focused back on the Doctor, this time, noticing the knife in his hand. His clenched his fists. "Come on Doc. Let's you and I have a go," he stated with a jeer._

_The Doctor tapped his knife, "I have… a prior appointment."_

_His eyes narrowed, "This won't take long."_

_The sick Doctor only grinned, "No, I don't imagine it will."_

_Enraged as he was, Spike forced his demon down and eyed his surroundings. Glory's minions really weren't the most skilled carpenters, he allowed himself to note. He glanced at the archway above him, and saw a few loose pieces of steel piping hung more for what he guessed was ceremonial decoration then for structural integrity. Reaching up, he grabbed the closet piece of scrap metal he could._

_The Doctor, seeing his opponent's newly found weapon, widened his eyes slightly and his smile increased as he simply went, "Hmm. A resourceful vampire. Lovely." Only a beat later, the Doctor's monstrosity of tongue darted out toward Spike. Dawn began shrieking once she saw the disgusting, wormlike atrocity streaking directly toward her rescuer, but Spike's eyes only narrowed. He was ready. Not only did he allow the Doctor tongue to come near him, but he allowed the demon to wrap said tongue around his only weapon. As soon as the Doctor's tongue had a secure grip on the pipe, Spike slammed it down on the on the floor, sticking it into the steel mesh that had been constructed as the platform's based._

_No longer was the demon in his calm and collected bedside manner, but he was panicked and enraged by the trap that had been laid for him as he was unable to remove his tongue from the steel pip and the steel mesh that surrounded it. Spike knew it was only a matter of time, so he did not waste the precious opportunity. He allowed his demon loose as he rushed toward the Doctor. The pinned monster could only move aside slightly as he was trapped to do much of anything else. Spike, with every ounce of vampire strength he had, gave a square right hook into the Doctor's left cheekbone, sending him flying off the platform and dropping his knife with a loud clatter beside Dawn in the process_

_The Doctor gave a muffled yelp as his lifeline to the platform, his tongue, went taut and became the only thing separating him and his death. Spike glared down at him for only a flash, deciding he wasn't going anywhere, and then went straight to Dawn._

_"Spike!" She sobbed, only this time, grinning widely as she was doing it. "I can't believe… you stopped the-"_

_"I'm here Niblet," Spike comforted as he grabbed the demon's knife to cut off the ropes that held her place, wanting to get her the hell away from this godforsaken platform. "Can't have you starting any hells on earth here, your sister would kill me."_

_Dawn could only give a strangled laugh through her sobs. Massaging her wrists, she barely took one shaky step forward. Sensing that she was in too much shock, Spike swooped her into his arms, not wanting to have Dawn fall of the ledge-less platform on account of nerves. Wouldn't that go over well? "Yeah, I stopped the apocalypse and the portal, but Dawn fell off the tower and died on account of nerves. Bonus points for trying?"_

_"Spike you can put me down." Dawn said, slightly embarrassed. But she leaned into his chest anyway, thankful for his gesture if only in her actions and not in her words. So Spike ignored her statement and carried her to the ladder. Hearing a gargled shout, he looked down at the tongue that was still connected to the steel pipe._

_He set Dawn down, "Stay here for a moment Niblet." He stood up and turned to the edge of the platform where the Doctor was flailing about. He looked up at Spike with enraged eyes and tried to say something, but all that came out were incoherent muffles. Spike finally indulged himself a little as he stated, "I'll send the lady your regards." With that, he took the Doctor's own knife and slashed his tongue away from the pipe, finally sending him to his well deserved death. Let's just hope he stays dead this time, thought Spike as he turned back to the lady of the hour, his little bit._

_The two slowly made their way down the tower, with Spike carrying her most of the way. He was grateful that there were no minions on the stairs. The ones he had taken care of on the way up had not been replaced. He glanced down at the fight that was going on. There were a few left, and the witches seemed to have it under control. With his vampire hearing, Spike could hear Buffy give Glory the beating of a lifetime, or in Glory's case, an eternity. Her sweet voice came to his ears barely as he heard her say, "My arm's not even getting tired." That's my girl, Spike smiled and felt no urge to hurry along._

_"Thank you," Dawn softly said, breaking the silence they had up until that point._

_Spike looked down at her, and smiled in his traditional cocky manner, "You seemed a little worried up there. Didn't think we were gonna help you?"_

_Dawn only gave a small, faltering smile, "Would it be bad to say that I was a little scared?"_

_He broke out of his attitude as he replied softly, "Dawn, you are one of the bravest ladies- hell, you are one of the bravest beings I know. The fact that you were worried about starting an apocalypse-"_

_"It wasn't the apocalypse I was scared about," she breathed in deeply, slightly ashamed, "I was worried about dying in order to stop the portal." She looked up, tears in her eyes again, "I know about the ritual. I knew that all my blood would have to be spilled in order to stop it. And no one was coming, and the Doctor h-he, he had this knife, and-"_

_"You stop right there pet," he ordered gently. He set her down on the ground out of his arms, and sat her in one of the wider corner of the stairwells. He squatted down close, "No one would have allowed that to happen."_

_"But if the portal had been started-"_

_"Buffy would have not let anyone kill you," Spike interjected. "And neither would I."_

_Dawn could only bite her lip, "But all the people…It would have been the apocalypse Spike. Do you really think I would let all those people die to only let myself live?"_

_The two sat still for awhile, letting Dawn's last statement float in the air between them. Spike staring intently into Dawn's eyes, and Dawn, staring back at him. Spike finally gave small smirk, "You got more of your sister in you than I thought Niblet." But his face cleared and he gave her a stern look, "But we don't have to think about such things, because we took care of it. So stop that right now pet, or Buffy is going to see your sad, tear-stained face and think that I had something to do with it."_

_Dawn let out a small giggle at that point. They were both about to get up and continue their journey down the rickety staircase when the heard clambering sounds coming from below. Someone was coming up, and fast._

_"Get behind me Dawn!" Spike ordered as he stood up, and placed Dawn between him and the corner railing. The sounds were getting closer and Spike felt his body growing tense once again. Hopefully, it would be nothing but a minion or a crazy, but he would not allow himself to take any chances. The steel bangs were getting louder and closer, Spike could feel Dawn grip tightly the back of his leather jacket. Just about as Spike was ready to kill the thing who came around the corner, Buffy showed her face. And even more surprisingly, ignored them completely, and kept running past them and up the stairs._

_Staring after her incredulously, Spike sounded out to her, "Ummm…Buffy?" Dawn, hearing her sister's name, pushed away from the corner Spike had placed her in and joined in Spike's beckoning._

_"Buffy! We're here, we're okay!"_

_The stomps and steel clangs stopped for a second on the floor above them, "Dawn?" they heard Buffy shout._

_"Down here!" Dawn yelled back, practically laughing again. The bangs and clomps came back to life as Buffy came back down the stairs. Her eyes went wide as soon as she saw them as did Spike's. God she looked beautiful, and more importantly, unharmed._

_"Dawnie?" She asked in shock. Dawn nodded furiously, her waterworks starting up again only to be joined by Buffy's tears a moment later as she closed the distance between the two of them and practically slammed Dawn's body into her own. She grabbed her for a tight embrace and through the muffled tears and crying, Spike could barely hear Buffy say, "God, I thought I might be too late."_

_"Spike saved me. He stopped it."_

_Buffy began touching Dawn's face and hair in continuous patting motions, as if to reassure herself that her sister was really there, "You're okay, you're really okay!" she kept murmuring to the bit, her eyes glistening. Suddenly, she pushed Dawn's face towards her and started smothering her with kisses. Spike smiled at the scene as he saw Dawn's teenage personality finally kick through._

_"Eww, Buffy… stop with the kisses already." But she only said it halfheartedly. _

_Buffy's reply was to stop kissing her, but to grab her again for another hug. This time, as she was hugging Dawn, she looked up at Spike. Her eyes shining with tears and a smile on her face that hadn't present ever since she found out that Glory was after Dawn. Spike felt a knot in the back of his throat as he felt the effects of her gaze upon him. He felt like the love he had for her might very well burn a hole right of his chest when she opened one arm away from Dawn and pulled him in for a hug as well. Had it been anyone but the Summers women, Spike would have pushed himself away from this group hug, mushy scene that would have most definitely harmed his reputation as the Big Bad. But being in this moment with Buffy and the little Bit was all worth it. Especially when a beat later, Buffy whispered into his ear with a tearful breath, "Thank you Spike. Thank you."_

_Spike could only hold onto these two ladies who meant more to him than anything else in this world. He would never let them see it, but his eyes also began to well up. In efforts to hide it, he dropped his head down onto the Bit's head, holding her tight, while looking at the beautiful, strong woman in front of him. The woman he loved._

_And he had not failed her._

_Spike probably could have stayed in this position for hours had it not been for the strange crackling noise he began to hear. Spike glanced behind him and saw a bright shinning light, one that was rapidly growing in size._

_Spike, pushed himself away from the group hug, and stepped closer to the light. "What is that?" he asked. The ladies said nothing, so he turned to them to ask them again, "Don't you two-" but he stopped himself._

_What had been the Summers women in a happy embrace was now an entirely different scene. Dawn was covered in blood and her face was one of shock and fear. Her hands were in front of her face, and she was staring in horror as the blood dripped off slowly from her fingertips. "Dawn!" Spike shouted, confused and frightened. "What happened?" He rushed toward her and grabbed her bloodied hands into his own. He looked over to Buffy, who was expressionless. She was simply staring at him._

"_Buffy…I'm sorry, I-I..."_

_But Buffy simply let her gaze drift back to the light, the furious energy crackling louder than ever. Her gaze hardened as she stared into the boundless power, unrestrained and threatening to spill death and destruction into the atmosphere. Spike felt his mouth opening and closing, trying to find words or trying to understand how it had happened. He kept loosening his grip off of Dawn's hands to move himself closer to Buffy, but everytime he tried, Dawn's hands began to shake so violently he could not force himself to break his hold._

"_Buffy," he tried again, "Please! I-I-I don't know-"_

"_I counted on you to protect her," Buffy said, her tone deadpan and her gaze not breaking from the portal._

_The crackling sound was becoming so loud he could barely hear her, but he felt a dry sob threaten to break from his throat, "Buffy… no."_

_Without warning, she sprinted forward to the portal leaving them behind. With that, he finally did drop Dawn's hands and tried going after to her. But his feet were stuck and all he could do was watch._

"_BUFFY!" he screamed into the night, his voice being barely heard over the crackling. But before he could force his feet to do as his entire being commanded it too, Buffy had jumped into the portal. But instead of disappearing, the portal exploded. And he was drowning in first the light, and then dark. But all the while, he heard that crackling_

_That godforsaken crackling… _

His head snapped up and he opened his eyes. In front of him was a white shinning light that he could barely make out through the fuzz clouding his eyes. It was loud and violent crackling noise. He rushed over to it and threw himself at the portal with the scream he had try to voice earlier. But he hit something solid and he felt the portal fly away from him. Suddenly there was a crash, and the light and sound abruptly stopped. When his eyes finally adjusted, he saw that the portal, his TV, was broken on the crypt floor.

He glanced back to where he had sprang up from. It was his comfy chair. And from it what looked like, his remote had been sticking up from the cushion. He had probably rolled on top of it.

Soundlessly, he walked to the hole in his crypt to the ladder that led down to his bed. He pointedly ignored the debris on the floor and the slight burning smell from the small electric fire.

He didn't even bother getting under the covers when he reached his bed. He'd only awake in a few hours, similar to how he had woken up just now. He was used to it by now.

It had been 148 days.

* * *

Spike was back in the Summers- well, Dawn, Tara, and Willow's living room. Tonight it was just him and Dawn. Again. Xander, Anya, Tara, and Willow had been leaving Dawn in Spike's care a lot within the last few weeks while they were off researching whatever it was they were working on. Something about placing demon wards around the city of Sunnydale or something similar to that at least. Spike hadn't paid a lot of attention to it, and to be honest, hadn't really cared either. He was happier with Dawn then the lot of them anyway.

Tonight he was trying to teach her how to play cribbage, a game which Dawn insisted was what old people played in nursing homes.

"…And from your six cards, you choose two cards to go in the crib," he was teaching her, with just the slightest bit of impatience.

"The crib?" Dawn looked at him with a sarcastic smile in place, "I take back my previous statement on this being an old person's game." She began to twiddle with her necklace.

He raised her eyes in a warning, "No… it's like a pot. It's a shot for the dealer to score some extra points."

She began to play with the reflection from the metal charm dangling from her chained necklace, casting it on walls, chairs, and, most annoyingly, Spike's face. She giggled, "Now we're moving from baby to cooking terms?"

He glared as he tried to wave the reflected light away. "Do want to learn this game or not?"

"Spiikkkeee…" Dawn dramatically whined, dropping her necklace only to start rubbing her hands over her eyes. "I had a really long day at school not to mention a horrible night of sleep. I don't think my brain can handle this right now."

Spike could sympathize with the lack of sleep. He shuddered to think what the bags of his eyes looked like. But with thinking of sleeping, came the thinking of dreams. So instead of sympathizing, he threw his hands up in the air. "Fine. But next time you fancy yourself in a gambling mood in an English Pub and find that cribbage is the only game you can play for money… well, legally anyway…don't come crying to me."

Dawn chuckled, "Since when have you ever cared if something was legal or not?" Spike rolled his eyes, refusing to acknowledge her point. "Can we watch a movie instead? It's my turn to pick a movie, and I really just want to take it easy. My brain is mush" She slumped back into the couch throwing her feet up on the coffee table to emphasize her point.

He shook his head and got up from the couch, "I'm only agreeing to this because my TV broke I hope you realize."

"How'd it break?" She asked conversationally.

Spike, who was looking through the videos in the cabinet, ignored her and instead replied, "I'm saying it right now, I refuse to do another 80s movie marathon."

"What? Why?"

"Honestly pet, I've been over here maybe 20 times the past couple months and we have watched the Breakfast Club at least 5 times. There is only so much a fella can take, luv."

She blushed, "Fine. I was in the mood for something a little more fuzzy feeling anyway."

He turned to slowly look at her, "I don't do fuzzy," he emphasized severely.

"C'mon Spike, I just…," she searched in the air to find the right words, "I want to watch a movie that'll make me have warm soup belly. Something comforting, and easy to digest, ya know?"

"Are you sure you just don't need an antacid?" he smirked.

With that, she stomped off the couch went to the cabinet, purposely stepping in front of Spike. He held his hands in the air in mock surrender and went back to the couch and sunk down in his usual spot. He glanced at the Bit, looking over the selections. She must have found what she wanted because she straightened after a moment holding something in her hand and walked toward the TV. She purposely hid the tape case from view so Spike couldn't see and went down on the opposite of the couch after she had pressed it into the VCR. She struck her usual pose and she rested her head on the armrest and Spike lifted up his arms so she could place her feet on his lap.

The movie began, and Spike could instantly tell that is was in the very least a Disney movie. "If it's Bambi, I'm leaving."

"It's not Bambi," she smiled, but shoving him slightly with her feet. "Do you think it was enjoyable for me last time when I was crying that the hunter shot Bambi's mom and all you did was remark on his excellent marksmanship?"

Resigning himself to his fate, he found himself relaxing. These movie nights were becoming quite routine, and although they always complained about each other's movie choices, it was the closest thing he had to a comforting atmosphere since…

Dawn sighed indulgently, "I love this movie. It's so romantic." The previews had finally ended (Dawn insisted on watching them every time; Spike found them pointless), and a fairytale like music floated into the room through the TV speakers. He soon figured out what they were watching. He felt his throat tighten unexpectedly. "Have you seen it before?" she asked.

"Yeah," he admitted, his voice coming out a little hoarser than he had planned. He cleared it quickly when Dawn gave him a peculiar glance. "When Dru was sick, I used to put in movies for her to watch," he explained quickly. "The ones that made her quiet the longest were animated movies… well, that and horror-gore films," he added as a thoughtful side-note.

She raised her eyebrows, "Ok…but do you like this one?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but said simply, "Honestly don't remember much." Dawn eyes studied his for a moment. It was true, that he didn't remember the details, but he remembered the basic idea. After all, the story had been around long before Disney got its grubby little hands on it. What he didn't go on to say was that how this story was a representation of what he had so badly wanted: how he was a beast that so desperately wanted to be a man, so he could be with the beauty, the one that he loved. But he set his face stoically toward the screen and said nothing more. So Dawn simply shrugged, and settled in for the movie night as well.

But before she fully situated herself, she grinned wryly at Spike, "So, you've seen this before?"

"Yeah."

"And other Disney movies too assumedly?" she pressed.

He rolled his eyes, "Your point Niblet?"

She looked triumphantly at him, "And you said you don't do fuzzy."

Not taking his eyes of the screen, he picked up the throw pillow beside him and threw it right into her face.

* * *

Just as Belle was about to enter the castle, Dawn was already asleep. Spike did the drill as he lifted her legs off his lap so he could stand up and settle them down onto the couch. He then went to the nearby closet and grabbed the throw blanket (the fuzzy one, not the quilted one of course). By the time he was satisfied that she would not wake up nor get cold, he settled back into his second designated spot, the armchair. He grabbed the remote to switch back to the normal telly. But he stopped when he heard the movie say:

"Take me instead!" Belle pleaded with the Beast to save her father.

Spike looked hard at the movie's heroine and felt the empty hole that he tried so hard to ignore every time he was with Dawn. Another self-sacrificing heroine to save the day, Spike thought numbly. And of course, the Beast would fall in love with her and in the end would do anything for his strong and beautiful beloved woman. And since this was Disney, they would of course get married and live happily ever after. How fuckin' bloody nice for them, he growled inwardly.

He felt his grip tightening around the remote, noting in the far corner of his mind that it was ridiculous to get jealous over animated characters. But it was the thought that Dawn probably wouldn't be too pleased to find her remote and TV in pieces when she awoke.

This is bad, Spike thought as he felt his emotions began to overtake him. He quickly turned off the movie, and switched to what was playing on the telly. He sighed with relief as he found Die Hard playing. He had seen it countless times on cable late at night, but he had a deep appreciation for John McClane, simply for the fact that walking across glass with bare feet even made him wince.

He sank into his normal, TV stupor. He focused only on the movie, not allowing his mind to wander anymore. Although he was tired (hell, he had been tired for the last few months) he knew he wouldn't fall asleep. He had made the mistake once of falling asleep after Dawn had. When he had awoken to Dawn shaking him, saying that he had been shouting, screaming even. He had shrugged it off, saying that it was a migraine. It was such a ridiculous lie that there was no doubt that it was not the truth. But she had simply nodded her head, and gotten him a glass of water. She didn't ask anymore questions, which was good because Spike would have given her no answers. But after that night, he made sure that when she fell asleep, he would stay awake no matter what. And staying awake tonight meant focusing on a movie he had seen a dozen times before, which was better than the other animated option before him.

He was involved in the movie thoroughly, and it was just at the scene where John McClane sent a delivery on the elevator via dead human, which always made Spike chuckle, when he heard a loud squeal from a motorcycle engine proceeded by a loud crash.

Instantly snapping out of his chair, he jumped straight to the window located behind the couch and peered outside. He face turned grim as he saw a gang of Hell's Angels, demon style, tearing up the neighborhood. Road Pirates. He felt a slight dread at the pit of his stomach. Shit, his mind thought anxiously. Dawn, having been stirred awake by the noise and Spike's sudden movements, joined him at the window.

"What's going on?" She asked, fear underlying her voice slightly.

"Stay away from the window," Spike whispered fiercely. They wouldn't have come here if they didn't know that Buffy was gone. No doubt the slayer's home would be targeted, and he didn't want to give them any reason to come here any quicker by showing them live human bait. He grabbed her shoulders and guided her away from the window.

At this point, Dawn's fear became more of a predominant feature in her tone, "What is it, what's happening?"

"Just do as I say!" Spike commanded. He walked out into the foyer, with Dawn in tail. He double-checked the door to make sure it was locked. "I'm going to go check the rest of the house. Don't move!" He stared at her straight in the eye so she could see how serious he was. She nodded nervously and wrung her hands together as Spike moved forward into the dining room and kitchen area. He quickly turned off any remaining lights that were left on and made sure that the back door was locked as well. After securing the bottom floor, he ran up the stairs. Everything seemed secured, minus one open window in Willow and Tara's room. He closed it shut and locked it before heading back downstairs and straight to Buffy's old weapon chest.

He opened it and began to rummage through it. "Stakes… Holy Water…. One Cross," not thinking, he went to pick it up to look beneath it only to get burned instantly. "Agh!" He shook his hand in efforts to try to release the pain, "Brilliant."

Looking away from his injured hand, he happened to notice the Bit standing once again by the window. Damn it! Is it really hard to follow directions that'll lead you to not being dead, Spike thought angrily. "Here!" he strode over to Dawn and grabbed her by the shoulders once again, "You want me to bloody thump you? I told you to stay away from the window," he growled as he pulled her away from the window once again.

"Who are they?" Dawn asked looking at the window still.

Spike followed her gaze as he answered her, "Hellions. Road pirates. They raid towns ... use 'em up, burn 'em down." He winced as he saw one of the Demons throw a mailbox through an empty house. "It's usually backwaters, any place..." he drew in a breath, hoping not to scare the bit to much with this next piece of information, "Any place they think is vulnerable."

Dawn's eyes widened in comprehension, "They know. The Slayer's gone."

Spike looked back out the window with a snarl as he saw the demons now setting fire to the cars that were on the street and getting started on setting fire to the houses. He made up his mind, "Can't stay here." And without further ado, he grabbed Dawn by the hand and began to lead her toward the back door.

She pulled against him, "W-well, I'm not going out there!" Her eyes full of fear as she continued to look at the mayhem the hellions were causing out in the street.

Spike kept walking to the door, dragging her with every step of the way. He stopped when he go to the back door and said, "Got no choice, bit, I can't protect you here." And I'll stake myself if I screw up that again, Spike resolved internally as he bared his teeth slightly.

Dawn tried to reason with him as she stated, "Well, we can lock the doors, turn out the lights."

Spike could only scoff at that idea, "And what, hide under the bed linen? Not really my style."

Dawn was getting desperate, as it became apparent to Spike that she was searching for any reason to stay, "Bu-But we need to wait for the others, and Buffy."

Spike could only look at her with a concerned and puzzled look on his face. Was she that scared that she thought…?

"...bot." she finished lamely. "You know, the-the Buffybot."

Spike could have slugged at her for that. We have to wait around for the lunk of metal that reminds me everyday of what we are missing and what we have lost? Bullocks to that! "We-we have to wait for the others-"

He had had enough. He grabbed her none too gently by the shoulders and shook her slightly to get her wits about her. "Look!" Dawn's eyes went wide with fear, and Spike forced himself to calm down and proceed more calmly, "Dawn, I get that you're scared. But I'm your sitter, so mind me." He let go at this point and gave her a very pointed look into her eyes, that conveyed the promise he was saying, "I'm not gonna let any of those buggers lay so much as a warty digit on you." Dawn looked calmer but still apprehensive, "Right?" he insisted.

Dawn could only look at him and whisper out in the softest of tones, "Right."

Letting out a sigh of air, Spike prepared himself to go outside, "Right, then. We can't wait around to see if the others will pop in. We're on our own. No one's coming to our rescue." No Buffy around this time he thought to himself, allowing one last dejected thought before he prepared himself mentally for the certain treachery that lay before them. He took her hand, and out the door they went.

* * *

Buffy.

Yes. That was what they once called her.

That was strange. Why was she remembering that?

Before, she was nothing. She was everything. Words could not describe nor were they needed. There was nothing she needed or wanted and nothing was wanted or needed from her. And it was the way it was now and the way it was suppose to be.

But most importantly, she had been done. And nothing that happened before had mattered.

So why was she remembering things?

Right now, she was not just herself, but a part of something much greater. Something that filled every part of her that had been empty before. But now… something was different. Something was seeping into her.

All at once she felt a presence. Her state was no longer what it was, and she was forced into a sensation that terrified her. What was this? She felt herself slowly being separated from the whole. She was being molded into her own piece. She cried out against it, but it pulled her ruthlessly away.

She tried to fight, but she didn't know how. She was apart from the whole, yes, but she could still feel the close by, crying for her to come back. The dark force that had ripped her from the womb she had settled into so perfectly was now trying to kidnap her from her entirety completely. As much as her soul wished and fought to be back with the whole, she could do nothing. She couldn't do anything! The force was taking her, and she would have nothing left.

It swallowed her whole then and she was gone and tossed away. She felt a huge rush of speed as her being was hurtled toward something, but she could not see where she was going, nor could she feel the wind from the speed she was traveling. She was being pushed to something she cried out against it, but could not stop.

It seemed like she was traveling for a lifetime when suddenly, it stopped.

She could suddenly feel…pins and needles. Yeah, that was it. Pins and needles. It started small, and then spread out. It extended to the edge of her being, she felt a coldness she had not felt… since before. And slowly, she finally regained her entire being back into a frighteningly familiar 'feeling' state. She opened her eyes and took her first gasp of air; an intake of breath she had not felt the need to do since before… and that's when she realized.

She had her old self, her old incomplete, unfinished body back. And she was trapped. She had been… what was the word! her mind screamed. She searched her old memories that were now foreign and new to her when she came upon the correct term. She was in heaven. Buffy felt her chest heave; overwhelmed by the word that she finally could assign to the place she had been, the place she had been ripped out of. It was the only word she could think of could possibly represent even a portion of what she had.

She had been in heaven, and here she was, trapped and all alone. Her eyes widened further still as she realized she was in a coffin. She struggled violently for a moment when she suddenly realized something else. Her eyes shut tight as she soon placed a word to where she was now. Oh God, Buffy sobbed silently, she was in Hell.


	3. The Feeling After

**Chapter 3: The Feeling After**

Buffy clawed desperately at the cloth was surrounding her. Finding her breathing had resulted in struggled, short mouthfuls of air, Buffy began fighting with every ounce of her strength. Her movements, so familiar and so foreign at the same time, felt like lead weights, as if something was smothering her entire being; as though every lift and bend from her arms and legs were being forced in slow motion. Her strange yet recognizable memories brought back the nightmares she used to have before she was the Slayer. Where she'd want to run, but would find her legs stuck in an invisible sludge that only allowed her to trudge forward. Where she'd want to scream, but would find her throat full of cotton that only allowed her to whisper in fright. They had gone away once she found out just how much power she had and what she was capable of. But now, even with the knowledge of just what she could do, she found herself terrified.

Her voice was strangled as she finally ripped through the cloth and padding to reach the frame of her cell, the wooden top of the coffin. With a hysterical sob, she pushed her fists through the wooden pulp and was instantly flooded with dirt and soil. She was underground. Not allowing herself the chance to think of the implications of that statement, she forced her head and shoulders through the hole she had made and began to compel her body through the earth. She had to be quick; her breathing from her initial wake had been quick and panicked; and now, there was no more air left for Buffy to breathe.

She swam through the ground, finding it nearly impossible to move from one point to another. The only thing she had to give her some sort of inertia was the thing that had confined her in the first place. When she felt her feet reach the bottom of the coffin, she used every ounce of her Slayer strength to thrust herself upward. It gave her the push she needed. Her hand found air. With desperate movements, she willed her body to reach the earth's surface. When her head broke through, she immediately drew in greedy gulps of the sweet air that surrounded her.

As she was drinking in the oxygen, her eyes slowly begin to adjust. She was in… what seemed like a wooded area… Buffy couldn't be sure, but she thought that she may be in a forest. This confused her. Her association of hell had always been fire, brimstone, demons torturing poor souls, and so on, not a quiet forest. She pulled herself out of the ground slowly, now allowing herself to become accustomed to her old form as she brought herself to her feet in a shaky motion. Slowly, she turned around to take in her surroundings wanting very desperately to know where she was and why she was here. At first she saw nothing but trees, rocks, grass, and earth. She looked up at the sky and saw… stars? They were a lot brighter than what Buffy had remembered. They even stung her eyes if she looked at them directly. Bowing her head down, she focused on the ground instead. And that's when she saw it.

Buffy Anne Summers

1981-2001

Beloved Sister

Devoted Friend

She Saved the World

A Lot

She read each line slowly feeling her eyes widen as she let the words sink in. She was in a coffin. The coffin was underground. SHE was underground. Buffy felt choked. Her throat felt as though someone had taken their hands and wrapped them around her trachea. Her lungs suddenly devoid of air, she began hyperventilating trying to restore balance to her body. Oh God.

She had just crawled out of her own grave.

* * *

Spike and Dawn were outside, crouching down here and there behind random pieces of landscape. They were slowly making their way from the back door entrance from Dawn's house toward the front. Spike was leading the way, his eyes focused solely on the chaos in front of him caused by the Hellions. He stopped behind a bush, contemplating how they might get out of this mess. Dawn continued to move forward, so he held his arm up as a stop-guard.

"Get back!"

His eyes went back to the destructive demons. One group of Hellions had managed to finally break into a home across the way. They were ransacking the place where they proceeded to immediately smash the windows and frighten the inhabitants, as Spike heard a scream travel over the nighttime air.

"I-it looks like they're just ... wrecking stuff. No thought other than just destruct-o-rama," Dawn commented, her eyes surveying the same scene.

Studying the scene, Spike began to run his tongue over his teeth and lips. God he missed that. His lips formed a small smile as he remembered the days where he used to rule this town; stirring up ruckuses, causing mayhem, the very demon community groveling at his feet. Good times. His eyes went back to check on Dawn. He found her looking at his grin with confusion and disapproval.

"What?" She questioned suspiciously.

"Uh, oh, nothing, just, uh ..." he looked back at the action and nodded towards it, "looked like fun." Dawn replied with a frosty look. Spike shrugged it off, "I'm just sayin'." Spike focused back on the issue. Get Dawn somewhere safe. "Yeah, it's just with this kind of frolicking going on all around town, we're not gonna get very far without..." Spike trailed off as his mind came to solution. His mouth gradually formed a grinned. Time for a little destruction of his own.

"Stay here! And I mean it this time," he gave Dawn a very pointed look as he directed downwards to the spot she was currently squatting in.

"I got it, I got it. No moving," Dawn said hurriedly, gripping a branch of the bush for a slight security.

Spike gave one nod, and then stood up. His eyes spotted a useful item in the grass. He crept his way forward, and grabbed onto a hockey helmet and threw it softly back to Dawn. As she grabbed it, her eyes gave him a confused look. Spike immediately pointed at her again, his eyes giving that 'don't you dare move' look. She nodded, and Spike could practically feel her desire to roll her eyes. Lucky for her she didn't, he grumbled internally.

He stood straight up, and walked slowly in the middle of the road. He stopped once he found himself clear of any nearby cars or random debris and waited. His muscles tensed up as he began to feel a high energy wash over him.

Suddenly, he saw his mark. A motorcycle headlight peeped its head over the hill in the road. He felt his hand twitch, but inside, his mind was in a frenzy. He could barely hold in his excitement. The headlight grew larger and brighter, the sound of the motorcycle grew closer, and when the hellion was about to hit Spike, he sidestepped and braced his arms to the side. The demon smacked into his arms, and instead of being propelled forward, Spike held his ground. It took less than a second, but it had achieved his desired result. The demon was forced off his motorbike as his hog skidded forward, while the Hellion remained by Spike, dropping to the ground unconscious from the sudden impact.

Not wasting a moment to allow the other demons to realize one of their friends wouldn't be making it to the party; he ran over to the fallen bike and sat it upright as he climbed on from behind. As soon as he was situated, Spike gave the all clear.

"Let's fly pigeon!" Dawn popped herself out of her hiding place and placed the helmet on her head. As she ran toward Spike, the Hellions finally realized that the crash outside was a result of something attacking them, and not the other way around. Dawn skidded into Spike and she quickly jumped on the back of the bicycle, gripping tightly around Spike's waist. Just as the demons came out of their destruction zone, Spike revved up the engine hard and they peeled away. Spike smirked, being glad that he had been afforded a little fun for once.

* * *

Buffy had managed to find her way out of the forest. She hadn't really paid attention to how she had done it; all she was trying to do was get away from her grave. She had ran in the opposite direction, barely noticing the tree roots and small plants that she was tripping over on the way. But her attention was brought back to her body's movements when a bright light suddenly shot through the tree growth.

She stopped, gasping in air. Her eyes had to shut tight to block off the glaring lights in the distant. She shook her head. She couldn't take it all in. She didn't know what she was feeling; it was something incomparable to all her previous memories. Something she didn't think she'd ever be able to find the words for.

Opening her eyes, she squinted into the light. Now that she was looking more closely, she could now see that the lights were coming from a town as she vaguely made out the silhouettes from the buildings in the distance. So she made her way forward.

Reaching the city entrance, she walked ahead slowly. Something seemed slightly familiar about this place, but it seemed all wrong. Things were broken or on fire which reinforced her belief once again that she was in Hell. But she had this nagging feeling that somehow, she had been here before. Before she could sort through her thoughts, she suddenly heard a muffled squeal coming from ahead of her. Squinting her eyes, she begged them silently to see clearly. A vague shape with a bright light was coming towards her. She stepped closer to it, tilting her head slightly to the side. What was that thing? The closer it got, the clearer it became when suddenly it drove by her. It was blurry, but she could make out a motorcycle with some sort of demon riding it. It threw an object at her, which she only slightly stepped away from. She vaguely heard the object break, but was still struggling to think if she had ever seen something like this before.

She had forgotten what it was like to have all the senses again. In her last form in… well, the last place she had been, there was no sight, sound, smell, touch, or tasting of any sort. All she had was feeling; not in the physical sense like this body was used to, but more of an abstract manner. She felt love, safety, happiness, and whole. Now, she was struggling to find out what exactly she felt, but all of her other senses kept distracting her and overloading her, sending her into a panic. She wanted so badly just to feel again. But her body was so reliant on her other senses, that she found that to be impossible.

Eventually, she came across an open area. She shielded her eyes for a brief moment as she saw several small fires within this wide field, but in the center of it all, one large bonfire with figures surrounding it. Her ears struggled for a moment, but she heard muffled cheers and shouts coming from this group as if they were celebrating something and she felt herself drawn toward them.

They didn't even notice her as she walked slowly forward. It became apparent that these were demons, similar to the demon she had seen riding the motorcycle earlier. But even as she got closer and closer, they took no notice of her; and that's when one of the beings began speaking.

"This here is a momentous occasion, the beginning of a new era" Growled the voice from one of the demons. Buffy had been struggling to hear them exactly, but this leader projected his voice loud enough to flow through the cotton that was apparently stuck in Buffy's ear canals. She continued to move forward, so she might feel something.

"Now, no question, the open backroads and highways have been good to us. But we've got ourselves a juicy little burg her, just ripe for the picking. And I ain't in no hurry to leave it, you?" As the low, snarling voice rang out his last word, it was met by a cheer of all the other demons, who also sounded like they had smoked at least 5 packs a day.

"So I figure, what better way to kick off our semi-settling down, than with a little christening?" This was joined with another roar of approval, but this time, another sound had been added. She had almost made it to the group, so her hearing was improving slightly with every step closer she took. Now, her ears heard faint 'tings' as well. As if metal was clanking together.

"A symbolic act commemorating the new order around here… and riding ourselves of any not-so-pleasant reminders of the old. All in one quick, really, really, violent fell swoop." The demon grinned maliciously as his followers chuckled and shouted out words of fierce approval

She was within the group's outskirts when she felt something. She couldn't be sure, but she believed she was feeling their emotions. Her eyes widened as she realized she had retained part of her previous form, the sense of feeling. She closed her eyes in brief thanks before continuing stepping forward. The closer she got to the pack, she could feel their emotions more strongly. She felt excitement, power, and… hate. Buffy felt herself choke slightly. It was potent and something she had never felt, human or otherwise. But these emotions, these feeling, reminded her of… heaven in a sense….. so she continued forward. That's when her eyes saw something that it shouldn't be seeing.

Buffy's eyes focused and widened with horror. It was her. She was standing there. But what scared her most was that she was receiving no emotions from herself, "Gentlemen, start your engines."

Buffy was frozen. If that was her…what was she? The Buffy in front of her had chains wrapped around her arms and legs. And she was just standing there, not fighting. Not even mouthing off, like her memories said she did. Her brain struggled as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Was this some alternate dimension? Or was this a hell where she saw herself tortured and she was the one left to feel the pain?

As she tried to make sense of it all, the Buffy in front of her, noticed her. Her eyes widened in surprise, but Buffy didn't feel the emotion coming from her at all. This scared her, because she saw her and felt nothing, where she could feel the emotions of the demons around her. What did that mean? She vaguely saw and heard the other Buffy mouth her own name, when the leader interrupted her along with the revving engines of the motorbikes.

"Bye-bye, slayer!" With that, he fired his gun into the air and the bikes took off. The other Buffy only had a moment to look at her in confusion and surprise when suddenly she was ripped apart.

"NO!" Buffy screamed. This was the first word she had spoken, but she didn't even notice. All she saw was the horror of her body being ripped apart. The Hellions turned around quickly to see what they thought to be another copy of the former slayer. Their leader only grinned.

"Another one for the fire, boys!"

Buffy took her shock eyes way from her torso that was lying on the ground and locked onto the leader's disgusting stare. He gave her a repulsive smile, "Tear it up."

The implications of the statement shook her out of her trance. She turned around from the horror movie that played in front of her and started to run in the opposite direction.

Her body felt awkward the harder she pushed it. Instead of gliding smoothly down the street in quick strides, her feet hurried forward clumsily, occasionally tripping over her own feet or a piece of debris in the road that was in front of her. But with every step further she distanced herself from the pack, she could feel their emotions ebb away. It was hard to determine which was worse, feeling hatred or feeling nothing. But her thoughts were chased away by the squealing machines and demons trying to catch up with her.

They pulled out quickly in front of her, grabbing at her. She didn't know why, but she could feel within her core that something bad would happen if they touched her. She stumbled away and began to head down a different street. This road also held a demon waiting to rip her apart just like the other Buffy as it swung a chain around his head, yelling in excitement. She faintly heard the other motorcycle come up from behind her. Luckily, her slayer instincts took over as she rolled to the side of the road, allowing the two bikers to collide into each other.

Glad that some things still came naturally for this body, Buffy glanced back to make sure the demons were down for good. She struggled to her feet once more, and continued running.

Within seconds, she found herself in an alley. Hearing the demons come behind her, shouting and wooting in the excitement of the chase, Buffy allowed her slyer instincts to take reign and cast aside her feelings as her body jumped on top of a dumpster and then flip over the wire fence that it was next too, leaving the motorcycled demons with not way of following her. She hurdled down the alley. She didn't hear them anymore, but she sprinted forward coming to another wire fence. She climbed up this fence with ease as well, and flipped over. It was when she landed she felt something once again.

She tensed up, fearing that is might be the demons again, but when she stood up from her crouched position, she could only stare. It was Xander, Anya, Willow, and Tara.

Startled, Tara let out a confused, yet relieved sigh, "It… it's the Buffy Bot."

The Buffy Bot? Buffy asked herself internally. Does that mean what I saw was…?

Xander slowly stepped forward, looking at Buffy with an annoyed look on his face, "Ah peachy. No doubt to lead the wild bunch right to us again. Hey Will, next time this thing is damaged, could you program it to find the nearest Radio Shack, or…" he slowly trailed off, noticing Willow's hard, surveying look on the 'robot' before them. Buffy hesitantly met her gaze.

"Buffy?" Willow asked in trepidation. Buffy focused on Willow when once again she began to feel. Her friend seeped out feelings of hope and anxiety, but underneath these familiar feelings, was something much darker and stronger. It was if there were two people within Willow. One being Willow herself, the other… Buffy stepped away from her in fear and begin to run away. She stumbled over her path, her mind focused on what she felt, not allowing her bodily instincts to take over. She eventually met with a dead end brick wall. But instead of looking for alternatives, she sank to a crouched position. What was this place?

The old Scooby gang eventually caught up with her, but she gave off no visual signs of noticing them. Instead, she focused on the feelings of those around her. Xander, Tara, and Anya shared similar feelings of concern, happiness, fear, and a bunch of other feelings that didn't seem possible to match together. And their emotions began to smother and suffocate her. Why were things so difficult down here? Her mind cried out.

"Buffy, it's Willow." Willow's voice broke through her mind chatter. Struggling, she looked up hesitantly at her. Willow was also pouring out similar jumbled up feelings that Xander, Tara, and Anya had given out, but the dark part of her had only one feeling. And that was something close to what Buffy would describe as triumphant. It sickened her. "Can you hear me?" Willow pleaded.

"What's wrong with her?" Anya whispered.

"Nothing!" Willow immediately defended. "She-she's… she's in shock."

"Her hands are bleeding," Tara pointed. "Her fingers."

"She's filthy," Anya added with a concern air.

Buffy looked down at what Tara was pointing out. She hadn't noticed them before. Inspecting a little more closely, she found that her knuckles' skin had been ripped off. Along with the blood, there was also quite a bit of dirt and grass bits within her wounds. Even seeing it, she still couldn't really feel it. She only clasped her hands more closely to her chest.

It was then Xander's emotions hit her like a ton of bricks. He was immediately filled with guilt, regret, sadness, and anger. She couldn't bear to look at him as she struggled to keep herself together under the weight of his emotions.

"Oh no," Xander said, barely above a whisper.

"What?" Willow asked.

"No." He shook his head, "How could we…" his emotions flooded her again, like a wave crashing down on her, "so stupid!" he shouted in frustration.

"Xander," Willow admonished.

"Our spell. Our resurrection spell worked like a charm. We brought you back to life Buffy." He paused and looked to Willow, "Right where we left her. In her coffin"

For a brief moment, Buffy felt a peace as their emotions were blank and empty and Buffy was allowed the briefest moment to register what Xander had said. A resurrection spell? Did this mean they had taken her-but it soon hit her once more as she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt come from the group and she shuddered and crouched even lower to the ground.

"She had to… dig out of her own grave," Tara numbly registered, holding Willow in her arms as her girlfriend came rushing toward her.

"Buffy… Buffy, it's Xander," he called out to her. His presence was pleading with her, so Buffy found what strength she could muster, and straightened up to look at him. "We're sorry. We didn't know." She looked at him and wondered if he really knew, really knew just what she had been through. Not being able to look at him, she ducked her head down once again, ignoring him as he called out her name once more.

She forced herself not to hyperventilate again. She gathered slowly that her friends thought she was traumatized from digging herself out of a coffin. They had no idea and Buffy knew that they probably could not comprehend just what they had exactly done to her. What they had taken away from her. She began to shake and twitch as her feelings and her friends feelings begin to overwhelm her, barely noticing the conversation around her or even registering what Anya had said when she crouched down beside her. It wasn't until Xander's presence pleaded with her once more that she focused once again on the situation.

"Buffy… it's gonna be all right. We brought you back. You're home now." She wanted to cry when he said that last line, but she was once again flooded with a familiar feeling. The feeling she had when she had seen her body (or maybe Buffy-bot version she thought hopefully) being torn apart. She looked up gazing at her friends, wondering if maybe one of them was a demon, when she heard that raspy, deep voice once again.

"Yeah, welcome home, Slayer. Alive and kickin' after all!" Buffy glanced over to her right, and saw the pack of demons she had ran away from. She gave out a tiny breath, happy at least that these dark, evil feelings were coming from them, and not her old friends. But then her mind got stuck on the demon's statement. This was alive? Is this really what she had been like? Seeing this, the demon smirked at what he assumed was a scared and frightened little slayer, "Well, alive, anyway. Not looking too good, though, is she?"

"I don't see you winning to many beauty contests," Xander retorted, swinging his axe over his right shoulder. "…unless the Miss "My Face Fell Off" pageant gets going."

He snarled, "Big axe you got there."

"The better to cut you down to size, grandma."

This went on for a little while, but Buffy sat and observed. She was slightly connected to what was going on if only to prevent herfriends from getting hurt, but her brain was still reeling. Alive? Did this mean that she was back in Sunnydale? It didn't make sense. Everything seemed so different. It was possible that the people standing in front of her really weren't the Xander, Tara, Anya, and Willow from her past. There were similarities of course, but it felt all wrong. She wasn't entirely convinced that this wasn't some sort of hell dimension just yet. However, her thoughts came to an abrupt halt when Willow suddenly flew towards her.

Willow.

That was another thing that was wrong and different. She may have not been able to feel the things she could now back before she went to heaven, but she was certain that she would have been able to feel or at least see the darkness that surrounded Willow as it did now. Something was wrong with her.

It was at this point, that Xander also fell to the ground after being pushed around by the demons that Buffy began to focus. Whatever was going on, she had to push it aside. There was only one certain thing about her current situation; that these demons were bad no matter if she was in hell or not.

"Now let me tell you something, children. We're not gonna fight you. We're just gonna hold you down and enjoy ourselves for a few hours," the leader said his sickening grin stretching as far as his marred face would allow him. It was then that Buffy felt a righteous anger bubble up inside of her, something she had not felt since a lifetime ago, and she slowly rose to her feet.

"You might live through it. Except that certain of my boys got some," the leader licked his teeth in perverted manner, "anatomical incompatibilities that, uh, tend to tear up little girls." He finished sinisterly and Buffy, could only walk forward, feeling her rage but not allowing her body to exhibit it. "So who wants to go first?"

Buffy stood directly in front of him and he gave her a slow, evil smile, "I was really hoping it'd be you." Without waiting a moment, he hit her straight in the face. But the moment he touched her, something more than pain went through. She now had what he had, pure rage, hatred, and a lust for violence. She slowly turned toward him, her feelings reflected on her face. For an instant, she could see his eyes become hesitant and become a bit confused, but he moved forward with another punch anyway. Her newfound rage and slayer instincts guided her easily as she effortlessly caught his fist in her hand. She retaliated with a square right hook, followed immediately by a backhand slap. Before he was given a chance to recover, she did spinning roundhouse kick directed at his skull, knocking him to the ground, out cold.

Everyone stopped.

"Does this mean we win?" Anya said hesitantly.

With enraged growls, the other demons begin to rush toward the Slayer. But with everything she had faced, with everything she was feeling, and with her Slayer instincts still at full strength, her body only tensed in anticipation, her lips snarling with anticipation of a good fight.

* * *

They had been riding for awhile. Spike had been keeping an eye out for any Hellions, but they hadn't seen any since the Summers' home. This filled him with a little bit of confidence as he directed the bike toward the central part of town. Soon enough, they were coasting down Main Street. Other than a few fires here and there and a busted window or two at each store, they hadn't really hit the city too bad yet. It confused him slightly, since Hellions were known to use up and tear up a scene as soon as they arrived, but he figured maybe they were just ransacking the residential area first.

"There." Dawn stated, her arm darting in his vision with her finger pointing to an area in their horizon. Spike followed her finger to see her directing him to an empty lot with a rather large fire in the midst of it. "What's that?"

Instead of answering, Spike just drove toward the lot. As he pulled into it, he saw something white lying on the ground. He moved towards it, and put the motorcycle to a stop. Dawn got off first, slowly pulling off the cumbersome helmet that obscured her vision. Spike followed after her slowly as they both realized what they were looking at.

It was the Buffy-bot. Or to be more specific, it was the torso of the Buffy-bot. Spike unwilling felt his throat and eyes tighten at the sight of her- wait, it, he reminded himself sternly. All summer, he had fought beside this thing and all summer he hated what she was supposed to stand for. Nothing could ever replace Buffy.

"It's just a machine, Dawn," he said, trying to assure not only Dawn, but himself too. Still, his throat refused to become loose.

"I know," Dawn said softly, walking towards the machine to kneel down beside it. Spike could only look away. Dawn had become attached to the robot over the summer, finding comfort in the walking, talking reminder of her sister. For Spike, it had been the opposite.

As he walked away from Dawn and the Buffy-bot, he slowly begin looking for the robot's legs and arms, trying to distract his mind from the familiarity of this situation. But his eyes wouldn't cooperate as he felt a harsh, burning sensation threatening to spill onto his cheeks. He closed his eyes, tensing the muscles around his lips and eyes so as not to cry out and show weakness in front of Dawn, but unwilling, his mind traveled back 148 days ago, when they had found the real Buffy lying on her back in a pile of debris, not breathing and not moving.

_They had all just stood around staring and crying for God knows how long. It was Giles that made the first move toward Buffy and it was him that picked her lifeless body up, his tears falling on to her still glowing skin. Spike had wanted to go to her so badly, but with the sun out, he was stuck in the shadows, unable to do anything but sink into his sorrow and watch._

_Slowly after that, the witches had come up and covered her beautiful, broken body with a deep purple cloth they had procured out of the air, Willow wailing as she covered her up with Tara comforting her, tears spilling off her cheeks as well. Xander and Anya were the only ones not crying, they were just staring in horror, but they came up to Buffy's body too. Xander held onto one of her lifeless hands, looking empty and lost. No one spoke a word. After a few more minutes, they all slowly walked away from the tower, leaving him behind._

_It was then that Spike didn't care about the sun any longer. He wanted so desperately to be with Buffy. So he got up to follow the gang, he faintly heard someone shout behind him. As soon as he took a step into the light, feeling the sun's rays begin to heat up and burn him, he was shoved back into the shadows. As he stumbled over he looked over to see Dawn, glaring at him with a tear-streaked face._

_"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She cried._

_Spike couldn't even reply. His eyes looked skyward as he swallowed hard within his throat, his tears overflowing again._

_"Spike, you can't." Dawn said angrily. Hot tears seeped slowly out of the corner of her eyes. "You can't…" she trailed off, crying hard._

_"Oh yeah," Spike glared at her. He tried to control his voice, but his throat had become so tight that when he did speak, it came out as a strangled sob, "why not? Why shouldn't I walk into the sun?" he grabbed her by the shoulder and begin to shake her violently, "she asked me to do one thing, and that was take care of you! And it ends up her being the one dying to save you, when it should have been me!" Dawn only looked at him, no longer sobbing, but with tears still leaking out. Spike shook her hard, desperate to get a response "How is that fair?" Dawn only shook her head, "HOW?" he shouted out desperately, looking at her pleading for answers. Tears were his only response._

_He let go of her then. The fire that had driven his words now had faded away into numbness. He only felt resigned to the fate that he knew he had to take. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he wiped away the tears on his sleeve, as he once again prepared to step out into the sun when he heard her shout, "Then take care of me now!" He stopped, still staring forward into the day lit sky. "Spike, if you let yourself die, you'd only be failing my sister more!"_

_It was then he turned back towards her, looking her in the eye. Dawn's eyes were drenched and desperate as she pleaded with him, "Before she…"Dawn's eyes looked up to the tower, a sob catching in her throat, "before she jumped," she took a deep breath, so as to not loose herself into sobbing once again, "she told me that we have to take care of each other," she struggled to say this, her teeth clenched together. "She told me to be strong, and to live… but I can't do that if anyone else leaves me. So please!" Spike could only look at her, feeling his lips begin to shake as his tears once again spilled over his face. "Please, stay here for Buffy, if not for me!"_

_Spike stood in front of her, exhausted and raw with grief. A world without his love seemed impossible to live in. But if it was what Buffy wanted, he would do it. His fell to the ground on his knees without saying anything, being able to do nothing. He wouldn't allow himself to break down, so he did the only thing he could do, and nod in agreeance. Dawn got up and hugged him tightly, with Spike gripping on to her for what she was, his last lifeline to this earth._

_"For Buffy," he whispered grabbing on to Dawn and adding, "and for you Dawn."_

From then on, he resolved never again to show this weakness in front of Dawn. He would become strong for her, and protect her. He would make sure that she lived a long and full life, just like Buffy wanted. And once she had, Spike could finally get what he deserved: a nice walk into the sunshine or maybe a fine, sharp stake into the heart.

Spike cleared his throat as he brought his mind back to the present. His eyes spotted something by the fire and he walked towards it, grimacing at what he saw: a piece of the Buffy-bot; her left leg to be more specific. As he picked it up, he remarked, "Look at what those filthy buggers done to you," he tsked softly in annoyance and disapproval. He spoke loudly to Dawn, "Willow's slap-and-paste job's not gonna do the trick this time. Robot's done." He dropped the robot's leg onto the ground once more and looked back at the robot's torso, finding that Dawn was no longer there.

"Hey!" He inhaled sharply, "Little bit?" he looked around alarmed, "Dawn!" he yelled. Nothing. "Dawn!" he shouted even more loudly. Still, nothing. He then took off on foot, filled with a desperate anxiety, his mind repeating one thing over and over again with every step his foot took.

Shit, shit, shit.


	4. The Reason

**Chapter Four: The Reason**

Buffy had her hands down at her sides, surveying the destruction she had caused with a certain amount of glee. She breathed only slightly from the exertion, a slow grin taking over her features. Overall, it had taken less effort than she thought it would. This disappointed her. She was hoping for a bigger fight, a chance for her to waste some of her energy, to create true carange. Instead, she was left standing amidst the bodies with her friends staring at her.

"Well, they wanted a massacre," Tara threw out, trying to lighten the situation.

Xander was practically gleeful, "She's Buffy. She's herself again," Buffy slowly turned her head to face him the grin fading from her face. Herself again? Her mind struggled, but for some reason, she didn't believe this is how she felt before "You're back, Buffy, you really are." He moved in to give her a hug, and Buffy was slammed by his emotions, his gratitude, his happiness, and suddenly she felt ashamed and scared. What had just happened back there? She touched her face frantically and quickly backed away from him.

Trying to calm her, Xander held out his hands, as if surrendering, "Whoa… Whoa."

She just didn't know what was going on. First, she was scared thinking she was in Hell. Next, she was reveling in causing pain and destruction, gleeful even. Now, as she felt the emotions of Xander flood over her, she knew something was wrong. Something was wrong with her. She wasn't really sure if she was the same Buffy as before. She wanted to bite down on her lip and cry, but she stopped in mid-action once she realized that there was blood dripping from her lower lip. Shaking slightly, she brought up her already bloodied hand to smear it off. After wiping away the crimson drop, she glanced at it for a second when her mind flashed: our blood.

Dawn. Glory. The Portal. Memories from her past rushed through her and she remembered exactly why she had left in the first place. How Dawn was the key, how Glory had kidnapped her, how Dawn's blood had opened the portal that would end the world…and how she had jumped into the portal to save her sister. Her eyes widened with a realization Maybe she had failed, and while she died and went to wherever she had gone, Dawnie had died shortly behind her and went to hell. Her eyes widened as tears threatened to spill over. She looked fearfully at her friends. They would have only brought her back if the reason she had died had failed in some way. Their love was clearly evident in their emotions. They wouldn't have stolen her peace away for any other reason. Maybe they had tried to help her sister, but they didn't have the power so they summoned her to the hell dimension with them. It was unbearable to think about, but it made sense. So as her mind wrapped around this frightening idea, she took a slow, hesitant step forward. But once she was filled with the resolve that she had to go help her sister, she burst out into a full sprint.

Ignoring Willow's call, Buffy ran straight down the alley, only to be briefly stopped by a surge of rage from yet another demon, this one swinging a large metal pipe aimed right towards her head. Ducking away, she kicked him in the groin. Using his pain as a distraction, she grabbed a hold of his shirt and threw him against the wall, where there just so happened to be another piece of metal out and ready to impale him, which upon impact, skewered him whole. Once again, she felt the fury of the demon seep into her pores and she gave a bark of laughter in his demise His groans only lasted a few seconds before the breath went out of him, dead. And shortly afterwards, her wrath disappeared.

For a moment, she just stared. Hesitantly, she reached out and gave him a slight push expecting a shock of some sort, perhaps another burst of anger. But there was nothing. She brought her shaking, bloodied hand up to her face once more. What is this? She thought despairingly, looking at her hand as if it held the answers to all the questions she dared not speak aloud. But it would not betray its secrets. So instead, Buffy dropped her hands and turned to opening of the alleyway, focused back on her previous purpose.

She had to save Dawn.

Her strides were filled with purpose but no direction. How she would save her, she didn't know. But she had to believe that once she did, they could go back to where she came from.

While she was dashing onward, she suddenly saw an eerie structure loom in front of her. Her breath became shallow as she realized what she was seeing: Hell's version of the fateful tower that had claimed her own life and most likely Dawnie's as well. This could be no mere coincidence that Hell 'just so happened' to have the tower she had jumped from? The key to rescuing Dawn had to lie there, so Buffy wasted no time as she ran toward the tower entrance.

She made her way up the stairs, with her mind focused on Dawn, and Dawn alone. Once she reached the last ladder rung, she walked slowly to the edge of the ghostly tower. Dawn was not here. Buffy struggled with this information. Maybe Dawn didn't have to be here… but she was grasping at wild thoughts. Buffy was once again at a lost of what to do and where to go. She should have been thinking of what to do next, but her past memories caught up with her. Feeling her head tilt downward, she allowed her eyelids to follow, and began to fully immerse herself into her past life memories.

It was strange, although the sights and sounds from her memories were blurry, her feelings shone through with perfect clarity. There was an absolute sense devastation when Buffy had first seen the portal. It was then she believed that either the world would end or her sister would die. And she had felt absolutely trapped. But then clarity had come to her and she had known without a shadow of a doubt that she could stop it all, saving Dawn and the world. It was that knowledge that had given her an immeasurable amount of strength that had given her the power to leap into the abysses. It was her gift that she had been glad to give.

Dawn had been so frightened. She had pleaded with Buffy, begged her to not jump. Her cries were still clear in her head, "Buffy, no," were her words. She had made up her mind; she hated the idea of leaving her sister, but she was happy… so happy that she would be able to keep living. Even if it meant she had to die in her place. So she could place her hand on Dawn's cheek, smile, and say:

"Dawnie, I have to." Buffy whispered the words softly in remembrance. And she would do it again for Dawn. She would do it again, and they would both be able to go back.

"Buffy?"

Her memory fogged a bit as she struggled to remember their last conversation. She didn't remember Dawnie saying her name like that, but then again, she had thought if she jumped in Dawn's place, Dawn would be saved. Now knowing that that was not the case, she now questioned her own memories as she closed her eyes even tighter, struggling to recall their conversation.

"Buffy…"

No, this wasn't her memories. She felt a presence behind her, and it was giving off strong, yet indefinable emotions-emotions that were charged to a very high degree, but were full of uncertainty. Slowly, Buffy turned… and then she saw her.

Dawn was staring at her, her eyes wide and hopeful. Her emotions soon switched to something definable, and Buffy felt herself go weak under them. Dawn was emitting feelings of amazement and happiness… and it was like a warm bath for Buffy. The closest thing to the peace she once had…but she was confused.

She had been so sure that she had been guided here, to this place, in order to save her sister once again. But how was it that Dawn was standing in front of her, happy - ecstatic even? She could have imagined gratefulness, but pure joy? It was hard to say how she knew that these emotions were so different from each other, but it was her soul that guided her, not her brain.

"Is it you? I mean really?" Dawn's face slowly exhibited a smile. She took a small step forward, "Wh-What are you do-" but Dawn was cut off as the entire tower began to sway. Immediately, Dawn's emotions turned into one of fear as she grabbed onto the side handrail to steady herself.

As she felt her fear, Buffy turned back to the ledge. Gone was the momentary confusion, but back was her direction. This was good, this made sense to her. Dawn was scared about dying and being in Hell, she reasoned. She wanted Buffy to save her. And she would. She slowly turned back to the ledge's edge, and stared at the wide expansion. No portal to jump into this time. Regardless, she begin to prepare herself.

"No!" Dawn shrieked, now her emotions changing once again as it morphed from fear to terrified. "Don't!" Desperation had seeped into the mix of Dawn's emotions. Buffy looked back, bewildered.

"Don't jump, Buffy, don't move! Just walk to me. Please!" Dawn's eyes were wild with a frantic fear, gesturing wildly at Buffy to move towards her, away from the ledge.

Don't jump… she was mystified. How else was she going to be able to save Dawn? She looked at Dawnie with uncertainty. She tried to reason with herself that Dawn just didn't want to see her sister jump again, but her emotions of fear seemed all directed toward Buffy and none for herself.

"Please?" Dawn's pleaded tensely in a slightly high pitch. Her voice had cracked slightly, on the edge of fear and tears.

Buffy's eyes were opened wide with confusion; she struggled with her hoarse throat and dry lips as she struggled to say, "How…" she struggle to form her own words.

Dawn grasped onto her singular word as a lifeline, "How what Buffy?" She made a move to step toward Buffy again, but the tower creaked and shook once more, forcing her to hold her ground.

Buffy shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs in her brain, "… how… how do I save you?" Dawn's forehead formed a slight crease.

"What do you mean Buffy?"

She closed her eyes tight, struggling, "I need to save you Dawn. And when I do… we can both leave this place."

"This place?"

"Hell," Buffy opened her eyes to search Dawn's, imploring her, "This is… Hell, isn't it?"

She felt the shock come from Dawn before she saw it, "No! Buffy… no!" Dawn insisted, moving forward as much as she dared. Buffy could feel the balance of the tower shift vicariously. "Whatever happened to you, whatever you've been through, it's…it's over now. You're back."

"Back?" Now it was Buffy returning the questions, clearly confused. "This isn't Hell?"

"No, Buffy no, it's-"

"Then why is everything so… hard… and violent.. and..," she felt her composure begin to slip as Dawn's frantic fear became manifested as her own, and to a large scale at that. She felt herself almost start hyperventilating again. She took a single step to a railing the dangerous tower had graciously provided and leaned into it, trying to breathe normally. The tower swung slightly in place once again. Dawn shrieked for a split second, but then closed her eyes briefly and began to whisper calming words to herself. After she regained her self-control, Buffy felt calmer. Dawn took a deep breath and gingerly took a step forward, closer to Buffy.

"Buffy…what is it? What happened?"

Buffy, however, ignored her, "Back? What do you mean that I'm back?" her voice shook.

"It means you are alive again! It means you are on earth!" She paused for a brief moment, before smiling very slightly, "… it means you are here, with me."

The sisters looked at each other, not saying anything. They were still separated by a few feet of distance, and at the same time, they both took a small, tentative step towards each other. Their equal stepping seemed to placate the tower, as it did not shift as crazily as it had previously. So they continued with their small, baby steps: Dawn with an extremely anxious and happy look on her face, Buffy with confusion and fear.

Finally they reached each other. Dawn's emotions were clearly palpable. There was a level of confusion, but most importantly, she felt happiness and relief. Buffy begin to sink into these emotions as well, but although she begin to feel happy, her mind's confusion had frozen her. If they weren't in hell, and if she were truly alive again, why did everything seem so… horrible?

Dawn saw her sister's scared look, and in efforts to calm her, she slowly brought her left hand to Buffy face. In that instant, Buffy felt truly alive. She was so happy to see Dawn, alive and well. She felt like crying. Softly, Dawn placed her warm hand against Buffy's cheek, "I thought I never see you again." She heard her sister say, just as softly as her gentle touch.

Buffy felt tears slide down her cheeks. She placed her own hand over Dawn's and said nothing.

"Buffy, what is it?" her voice trembling.

Her eyes slowly opened, to look at Dawn's eyes, shining with tears that threaten to spill over. She swallowed hard, and forced the smallest, ghost of a smile she could bring herself to muster, "I'm so—I'm so happy to see you again."

Dawn dropped her hand and smiled, and was about to say something, but Buffy felt just a trickle of joy leave her. With that, her smile disappeared and she began sobbing. Her entire being began to shake and tremble, her shoulder hunched over struggling with the enormity of her situation. However, even with this strong, emotional display, she did not make a single sound, nothing except for a few shaky drawn in breaths here and there, trying her hardest to control it.

Dawn didn't know what to make of it. She gestured to hold Buffy's shoulders, but Buffy flinched from her grasp. She wanted to know. She needed to know what was going on before she received any sort of comforting.

"Why am I here?" She forced out in a strangle sob. "Why … Why is everything so much worse than what I remember?"

For a moment, there were only harsh indrawn breaths, and shuddering exhales. Then slowly, she felt Dawn's hands drop from her shoulders, and Buffy felt Dawn's emotions shape into horror. This shook Buffy out of her state. She looked up at Dawn with wide, fearful eyes to be met with a similar gaze from Dawn.

"Buffy?" Dawn questioned softly, "Where you were—were you," she licked her lips and gulped as if afraid to voice her thoughts. Buffy bit her lip and focused her attention on the tower ledge's floor. "Buffy, were you…happy where you were?"

Tension hung in the air.

Slowly, Buffy returned Dawn's gaze and whispered, "Yes."

Dawn's eyes were filled with shock and pity. Don't look at me like that, Buffy pleaded internally. Once again, Buffy felt like how she did with her friends, like she was some sort of freak, a ghost of who she once was. It confused and scared her.

"Buffy, I'm so sorry-" She moved to place her hand on Buffy's cheek again, but Buffy took a harsh step back. As a result of her quick action, the tower groaned and shook harshly. This disrupted Dawn's pity towards Buffy, and switched into high fear.

"We have to get off this tower!" Dawn shouted, grasping onto a nearby handrail. Her eyes were still sad over with what Buffy had lost, but now they were also full of fear of imminent death as the tower continued to sway dangerously.

Buffy stared at the tower as she felt its treacherous motions beneath her feet. For a brief moment, she thought that she should do nothing. Maybe she should let the towers fall to pieces. But it wasn't until Dawn shouted, "Buffy! Please, help me!" that Buffy shook her thoughts free and instead looked for a way to get them off this deathtrap.

She eventually spotted a pulley system near the ladder by the ledge on the opposite side. The wire looked thick and strong, but the pulley had seen its better days, as it was coated in rust and grime. By now, the handrails and the arch surrounding the ledge were beginning to fly off, falling to the ground 200 feet below. The handrail, which Dawn had latched onto, began to shudder violently and flew off as well. Dawn, having lost her source of balance, began flailing violently, as she desperately tried to regain her footing.

"BUFFY!"

"Dawn!" She did not hesitate. She leapt after her sister, and looped an arm around her torso to steady her. Without even to check to see if she was alright, Buffy rushed the two of them forward toward the edge by the ladder, which had also lobbed off the tower at this point. She tensed her legs for a brief moment, and the jumped toward the pulley system, grabbing the wire with her other free hand. She winced momentarily at the pressure she placed on her bloodied knuckles in the strain to hold not only her weight, but Dawn's as well.

They hung in the air for a few seconds, with nothing to break their fall from the ground 200 feet below them. The tower was practically finished, so Buffy, in a desperate move, yanked the wired rope. The pulley system finally gave, and it sent them reeling down to the earth below. Dawn screamed the entire way, holding on to her sister tight, where Buffy gritted her teeth, trying to ignore the pain in her hand and the fright emanating from her sister.

Suddenly, the wire went taught, and they had stopped mid-air, about 11-12 feet from the ground. Buffy let out of groan of effort as she nearly lost her grip from the sudden momentum change. She glanced down at the earth below. Satisfied at the distance, she lowered Dawn as far as she could. Dawn looked up at her, and gave a fearful nod to signal that she was ready, and Buffy dropped her. Once Dawn hit the ground, Buffy jumped after her. She lost her balance on the uneven ground and fell beside her sister.

Just when they thought they were safe and were about to get up, they heard a nasty mechanical sound, as metal clashed to make a high pitched moan. Buffy looked up to see the tower's ledge come flying down, as if it had been hurled from the tower as a last ditch effort to finish them both. Buffy once again letting her slayer side take over as she grabbed a hold of Dawn, and rolled the two of them away from the ledge's intended target zone. She barely made it as the ledge practically grazed Buffy's legs upon impact. Without giving Dawn the chance to even breathe, she hauled her sister up by the arm and rushed away from the tower, as the rest of it came crashing to the ground.

Since the tower had kicked up an enormous amount of dust and debris into the air as a result from its crash, Buffy led her sister to the fence running alongside the former tower for cover. Upon reaching the opposite side of the fence from the crash site, the two of them slumped down breathing hard from the effort of dodging the monstrous beast.

But once they were in seated positions, Dawn did not waste a moment in grabbing a hold of her sister into a tight embrace, her emotions so varied and rampant from one another, Buffy could not distinguish what she was feeling and she didn't know what to say. So all she could do was return the favor, wrapping her arms hesitantly around her sister's shoulders, giving her a gentle, awkward hug.

That was the scene for a good twenty minutes: Dawn crying, Buffy holding her gently, not saying anything, but occasionally sweeping Dawn's hair away from her eyes or soothingly rubbing her back. It was strange, she felt as though she had two set of emotions within in her, her own and Dawn's. She was happy that she was able to save her sister, but she was confused, sad, and almost angry that the end result had left her here… not Hell she slowly accepted, but Earth. But when she felt her sister, she felt nothing but a sense of weakening relief and an almost perfect sense of joy. Tried as she did to separate Dawn's emotions from her own, she found it impossible. It left her mind in a limbo, unable to decide how to feel.

Finally, Dawn slowly slid out of her sister's embrace and sat up straight, almost a little embarrassed about her emotional neediness that she had shown Buffy she so desperately desired. She cleared her throat and wiped her eyes with the neckline of her shirt. Once Dawn seemed a little more put together, she sat next to her sister, her back against the wall in a fashion similar to Buffy's. The two of them did not look at each other, but stared forward. Now that they were no longer touching each other, Buffy was finally able to separate Dawn's emotions from her own and place a mental block, a wall. As soon as she did that, she could breathe and think more clearly.

"Buffy? Is there anything I can do?"

Buffy kept her gaze forward, focusing on holding the wall.

Dawn sighed, "I know my shrieking on the tower and my crying probably makes you think I'm still 8 instead of 15. But you told me to be strong," Buffy kept looking forward but her eyes crinkled in the sides, remembering her last words to Dawn, "and… well, I've tried my hardest. I can help you… if you want me to anyway." Buffy remained silent. Instead of being discouraged, Dawn continued, rambling slightly trying to get her point across, "I know this place probably sucks for you, if you really were in… but-but that doesn't mean it's all bad. I mean, it wasn't bad before right? Well, maybe it was with the whole dying episodes and bad boyfriend breakups and mom leaving…," Dawn swallowed hard at this part, but with effort, she put a smile on her face, "but you still had good things too, right? Like friends, pizza, chocolate… and me, right?" Her eyes snuck a peek to Buffy, but the returned her gaze back to the space in front of them.

"And you're the slayer, that's gotta be a ticket for heaven no matter what… well, maybe not in Faith's case, but in your case definitely. So it wasn't your time, but it will be eventually, and then-"

"It was my time, Dawnie." Buffy commented dully.

Dawn frowned, and finally looked at Buffy, "But you're back, I mean, you wouldn't be here if-"

"This, my being here, wasn't done by any greater power Dawn. It was done by my friends," even with the enormity of the statement, Buffy's voice remained monotone, save for her last word, which had a hint of sarcasm.

Dawn's eyes went as big as saucers and she felt Dawn's emotions surge slightly to break through her wall, "What do you mean? What did they do?"

Buffy only shrugged. She didn't know how they had done it, nor did she care to find out.

"Wow…" Dawn could only comment softly.

"Yeah. Wow," her voice conveying the lack of awe she felt. But then her mind crossed to something Dawn had asked of her earlier, confirming that she really wasn't in a Hell Dimension. "Did you all really think that I went to hell?"

Dawn's hands waved in front of her defensively, "Well, yeah. But not because we thought you deserved Hell, but because you died by evil forces and killer portals. We thought Glory would make sure that, you know, you wouldn't be able to rest in peace? And you know, when Angel died, even with his soul, he got sucked into a hell dimension…and…yeah…"she trailed off, unable to find any other words.

Buffy had to admit it made sense. With their past experiences, they couldn't have known. Buffy didn't even know what was going to happen to her when she jumped. Hell certainly wasn't on her mind, but then again, Dawn and Buffy's friends have had a lot more time to think about it than the 2-3 minutes that she had before she jumped. With that in mind, Buffy eyes finally matched Dawn's gaze.

"Dawn, listen to me."

Her sister looked at her expectantly, 'What is it?"

"We… We can't tell them."

"Can't tell them that you're back?" Dawn asked, paranoid.

"No, not that. They already know that. Ran into them" she explained. Dawn nodded her head in understanding.

"Then what?"

"… They…They can't know where I was…"

Dawn bit down on her lip, apparently torn, "Buffy, they would want to know."

"I know… and maybe, eventually, we'll tell them." Buffy gave out a sigh, reflecting the weight she felt on her chest. Slowly, she brought herself up to her feet and then reached her hand to Dawn to lift her up to her feet as well. Once Dawn was eye level with Buffy, she went on to say, "For now, we'll let them believe what they want. That I was in some…hell-place thing, and that they saved me."

Dawn nodded once more, but her eyes implored her as she asked, "But…eventually right?"

"Maybe," Buffy said sternly, not wanting to give any flexibility to her statement.

She looked slightly disappointed at this and looked to the ground. She kept her eyes downward refusing to look at her sister.

Buffy gave an impatient sigh, and said, "Dawn, it would kill them if they knew just what they had done to me. I know… now… that they thought they were saving me. We just can't… not now."

"It's not that. I understand why you don't want to tell them, I do…" she took her left hand to hold onto her top right arm, showing her insecurity, "Buffy… you scared me up there."

Buffy's mouth formed a tight, thin line, "What, by seeing zombie Buffy?"

Dawn's eyes met Buffy's with a small glare framed with agitation, "No. By seeing suicidal Buffy."

Buffy's mind went blank. Suicidal, she wasn't suicidal, was she? But she took a gauge of Dawn's emotions, and they were bleak and depressed. Buffy begin rubbing her temples, feeling exhausted by sorting out all this… human stuff. She just wanted to go back home, back to her peace. But she forced herself to look at Dawn, the one direction, the one anchor she had received since coming back, and made herself listen.

"Buffy, I can't imagine what it's like for you here… but you can't leave me. You can't just come back, and then leave me again. Do you have any idea what that would do to me?" Dawn begged her. "I love you…"she trailed off softly, eye backs on the ground.

Buffy looked at her sadly, and with a small smile, whispered, "I love you too." And to both her surprise and Dawn's, it was her that initiated a hug. She drew in her sister, trying to comfort the both of them. When she pulled away, she said with a little bit of the old Buffy confidence, "I won't leave you."

Dawn's eyes were hesitant, "Really?"

"Yeah," Buffy's smile faded off her face, "but… it's going to be tough." Dawn's eyes showed fear once more, and Buffy quickly reassured, "Not the suicide thing, just… being here. Living."

Dawn finally allowed herself a tiny smile as she slipped her hand into Buffy's, "The hardest thing to do in this world is live in it." Buffy allowed a small smile appear on her lips as she heard her sister quote her. Dawn wrapped her hand around Buffy's and said reassuringly, "I'll help you."

With that, the wall broke and Buffy allowed herself to sink into Dawn's reassurance. Looking down at their folded hands, she gave a slight squeeze, "Ok" she said softly.

Dawn responded with an even harder hand squeeze, and replied, "Let's go home."

Buffy forced herself not to wince with those words. She didn't feel like she was home, and she doubt that she would ever feel that way. Regardless, she gave a short nod of affirmation, and let Dawn lead the way.

* * *

This girl was proving to be a nightmare. It seemed like every time he took his eyes of her for a millisecond, she'd disappear. And next thing you know, she was being chased by a werewolf or being tackled by a vampire. He wondered how Buffy had managed to keep her alive for all these years…

He swallowed hard, shouting in his brain that if he thought of Buffy now, he would never find Dawn. But he was out of ideas. He had scoured the town looking for any Hellions or a singular trace of Dawn. He went to the looted stores, the damaged homes, and of course, the graveyard. Nothing

If anything, it looked like the Hellions were making their way out of the city. The few times he had run into the demon bikers, they were tearing down the road away from the central part of Sunnydale, with no cargo (meaning no teenage human girls).

So next, he tried places she might have run to for safety. He went to the Magic Box, nothing. He tried the Bronze, again nothing. In a desperate attempt, he even went to the wanker and his girlfriend's apartment, nothing. A whole lot of bleeding nothing.

At one point, he had heard the Scooby Gang walking down a street. He snuck up behind them silently, not wanting to ask them directly if Dawn was with him. Might as well just ask to be staked directly before telling them he had lost Buffy's sister. Seeing just the four of them without any teenage tag-a-longs, he immediately dodged around them and continued looking for Dawn. It was all for the better anyway. From the few snippets of conversation he heard from them, it sounded like they were talking about the broken Buffy-bot.

Now, he was making a final loop around Sunnydale. It had been almost an hour since she had wandered off or by God been kidnapped. He wanted to believe that she had just gone home because she was just a stubborn, stupid girl who was going to be killed by him when he got to the house to find her there. But in order to satisfy any nagging worries that she may still be somewhere in the city, he told himself he would do one more round, and then head back to the Summer's home.

He was about halfway to three-fourths done with his final lap and was currently making his way through one of the alleys. His eyes widened as he came across at least eight Hellion corpses. One of them had a giant axe in the middle of his back. Spike tsked. It seemed that he had missed a good tumble. Either the Scoobies had dramatically improved in their fighting abilities, or the Buffy-bot had taken care of this gang before her demise. His vote was for the latter.

As he came to the end of the alleyway, once again finding another corpse (this one with a giant metal rod sticking out of his torso), he rounded the corner in dreaded anticipation. This was the one area of the city Spike had avoided since… well; he had avoided it for 148 days now. Yes, there had been a few times it had been unavoidable, such as when the Scoobies employed him to take out a demon or two that booked it out of the graveyard and made their way in this direction. But this would be the first time he came here intentionally. Once his view was unobstructed by the bricked alleyway, he looked at the town's landscape and abruptly came to a halt.

The tower had collapsed, gone from Sunnydale's horizon.

He gazed numbly on the scene. Vaguely, he realized he was parking his motorcycle and dismounting. He found himself walking forward into the mess. There were bits of metal, wood, stair pieces, wire, and other random debris scattered everywhere. Slowly, he sank to his knees, surveying the damage.

Part of him was glad. After all, this is where it had happened. This is where the one person who ever really made him feel like man, who he loved with every fiber of his being, had left... had died. But at the same time, it was a desecration to a holy site. In a sense, the tower had acted as a giant looming tombstone whose great size still paled in comparison to the magnitude of service and sacrifice Buffy had given the world. And now, someone or something had torn it down.

He closed his eyes and felt his hands sink into the dirt and dust that surrounded him. Almost as if he were at a proper burial, he grabbed a fistful of dirt and clenched it tightly within his grasp. He could almost feel her here…after all, he had never known where she had been buried. Dawn had tried to tell him once, but he stopped her. He couldn't bear to think of her beautiful body as dead and wasting away underground. So instead, he had come to think of this tower and this area as his personal gravesite for his goddess. His eyes opened, red but not wet from the strain of remembering. Gradually, he stood up onto his feet, and released his handful of dirt onto the piled destruction.

"Dust to dust," he whispered bitterly.

Slowly, he rubbed and wiped his hands together to rid of the excess dust and to shake his mind from the scene. He let out one low breath of air through his lips. Separating his hands from each other, he dropped them to his sides, shaking them out and breathing inward through his nose, bending his head to either side. He could come back later if he wanted; right now he had to see to a girl.

A girl that bloody well better be safe, so he could kill the little twit once he found her.


	5. Feelings of a Dead Man

**Chapter Five: Feelings of a Dead Man**

Buffy was staring at herself in the mirror.

Once they had finally come 'home', Buffy had wandered around the house aimlessly, asking Dawn what was different. She hazily heard Dawn tell her the slight differences here and there and how Willow and Tara now lived here. But what she really wanted to know was why it _felt _different. Where she had once felt warmth and comfort, she now only felt cold and emptiness.

She hardly noticed how Dawn had dragged her up to the bathroom. She barely even noticed how her sister had stripped her of her funeral clothes and gently placed her into the shower. But what Buffy DID notice was the icy blast of water that hit her in the face once Dawn turned the faucet on

Freaked out, Buffy had crouched in the corner wall by the shower. The physical sensation of being cold and wet at the same time was overpowering her common sense of turning up the heat and getting her hair wet so as to shampoo it. Sensing her distress, Dawn guided her out of the shower and filled up the tub instead. Things went a lot more smoothly from there and eventually, Buffy was able to get clean. Finally rid of all the dirt and grime, she now peered at her reflection.

She knew that the face in the mirror was her own. She recognized her small, childlike nose, her smoky blue-green eyes, her petite frame…but at the same time, it was all alien. It seemed like her skin was stretched tight over her very being, as if she had been shrunk to size in order to fit into her body. Was she always this confined in her own skin?

During her self-review, Dawn was fussing over her. She had held up various shirts to Buffy's torso, asking her trifling questions, such as what color she preferred, or if she wanted a button-up or t-shirt. Buffy answered, not really paying attention to her answers. After she got dressed, Buffy found herself suddenly being attacked from behind with a hairdryer. The sudden sound alone was enough to practically jump out of her skin, not including what the sudden change in temperature did to her skin. Hot air flew through her strands as Dawn rubbed her free hand through Buffy scalp, blow-drying her hair.

Dawn was full of a nervous, high energy. On the way back home, Dawn's worry and fear had slowly trickled away to a minimal level to be filled once again with the elation Buffy had felt upon first seeing Dawn again. This elation was now pouring out once again in full force as Dawn eagerly tried to attend to her needs. Here and there, Buffy received a full taste of her happiness such as when her hand brushed her scalp or when she helped her into the tub. But for the most part, she tried to keep her emotions at bay, keeping the wall firmly in place. She was still processing everything and Dawn's constant happy boosts were refreshing but too distracting. Luckily, she was finishing up her pampering. After finishing up her hair, Dawn spotted a speck of soil on her neck and wiped it away from a washcloth she had grabbed from the closet.

"There you are," she said softly. "Knew you were under that dirt somewhere." She gave a nervous chuckle. She placed the cloth by the sink once more and turned back to Buffy, "You remember what Mom used to say, 'Either wash that neck or plant potatoes.'" Buffy vaguely did, but didn't think to give Dawn any acknowledgement of that fact. "Yeah… I never thought it was funny either."

Buffy gave a strained smile, trying to erase Dawn's slight apprehension. It worked as Dawn became eager once more, and pointed to her blouse, "You want to button that, or, um…"

She nodded once and brought her hands up to button her shirt, but Dawn stopped her grabbing her hands lightly by her fingers.

"Ohh… ow…"she sympathized as she looked Buffy's bloodied knuckles. Buffy harshly yanked them from her grasp, her mental wall trembling. Jumping slightly, Dawn hesitantly stuttered, "Um, we'll… take care… of that after."

She stared down at her knuckles, remembering where she had acquired them, and she could only whisper "Okay."

Dawn, wrung her hands together for an instant, unsure, and then she brought them to Buffy's chest and begin to button, "Here, I'll do the shirt. And then, then we'll do your hands."

But Buffy's patience for Dawn's coddling had been worn down so thin that it finally broke as Buffy turned away and walked into the hallway. She heard Dawn sigh softly in mild frustration and followed her sister out. Buffy asked softly, "So… what else is different?"

Dawn turned on the light in the hallway, blinding Buffy for a brief moment. All these physical sensations, from hot and cold water to dim to light places were intensified to the hundredth degree. Dawn winced in sympathy, but went on to ask, "Do you mean about the house… or…?"

About everything, Buffy wanted to say. But she just shrugged in reply.

"Um… Let's see…Giles. It's so weird. He, he left today because you were…" Dead was the unspoken word that sat in the air between them. "He, he'll come right back. I'll call him. Somebody will call him."

Giles… she hadn't thought about him. "What…" She wondered how he would react. Probably like classic Giles. He would be flabbergasted and come back straight away wanting to take care of her. At least that's what she hoped.

"What, what?" Dawn interrupted her thoughts.

She blinked back into attention, "Um… what… will you say to him?"

Her sister opened her mouth to say something, but the sound of a door opening downstairs stopped her, startling both of them.

"What's that?" Buffy asked, her head whipping around anxiously.

"It's okay. It's okay," Dawn calmed her, her voice just as anxious as Buffy's, but she calmed visibly once a voice boomed from downstairs.

"Dawn! Dawn! Are you there?"

She breathed out quickly, "It, it's just Spike." She turned her head to top of the staircase, "I'm here!"

Spike. Her eyes widened in fear as she remembered every powerful memory she had with him. How he had tried to kill her on numerous occasions. The pact they had made so they could save their respective partners at the time (Angel for herself, Drusilla for him). How he claimed to love her. How he had been tortured by Glory and said nothing to protect Dawn. With no clear memory on how she truly felt about him, how could she know what to expect? Her hands went nervously to Dawn's, as she gripped her left hand tight. She was surprised to find her sister excited and nervous. She couldn't remember her sister having any real positive feelings for Spike…

Dawn gave her a reassuring smile, and took a step forward, but Buffy firmly held her ground. She looked back and whispered, "Should I go first?"

Buffy nodded once, her eyes wide. Dawn flashed another quick smile, and then took a deep breath and made her way down the hallway to the stairs.

* * *

Spike had finished his circle of Sunnydale and he found exactly what he suspected: no Dawn. So when he came to the doorstep of the Summers' home, he practically busted down the door in anxious haste. As soon as he was within the house's boundaries, he belted out on the top of his lungs, "DAWN! Dawn! Are you there?"

"I'm here," he heard Dawn's muffled reply, coming from the top of the stairs.

Spike fully entered the house and slammed the door angrily behind him. He waited impatiently as the little bit took her sweet time coming down the stairs. Oh, don't mind me, I've just been bloody tearing the town apart looking for you, he thought with a snarl.

As she came down the stairs, _slowly_, he finally saw her face. "Thank God. You scared me half to death," he paused and cocked his head slightly, "…or more to death." He pointed at her and glared, "You! I—I could kill you."

Dawn was giving him a very strange and intense look that didn't go at with the lecture he was giving her. "Spike," she softly said.

Sidestepping her distraction, he scowled at her more pointedly, "I mean it. I could rip your head off one-handed and drink from your brain stem."

But her look unnerved him. She had finally reached the bottom of the stairs, her eyes now boring into his at even a closer distance. It made him stop his rant, and made him finally realize that something was up. His eyes narrowed as it crossed his mind that maybe someone had dragged her here against her will, and was still in the house. But he nixed that idea when she looked at him very tenderly and almost cautiously.

"Look," her voice and face directed Spike toward the top of the stairs. After a brief moment, he saw the beginnings of a familiar pair of shapely legs make their descent.

He scoffed. Got all worked up for nothing, "Yeah? I've seen the bloody bot before. Didn't think she'd patch up so-"

But as the figure slowly stepped down the stairs, Spike stopped mid-sentence, his words suddenly becoming stuck in his throat.

She was walking down the steps in unhurried, deliberate motions. The shadows from the railing were hitting her body, and curving over her slowly with every movement she made. Her hands were kept closely at her sides, as if she were timid, scared. So he kept looking up, wondering why she was so different from normal and that's when he met her eyes; eyes that were staring directly into his, full of questions, full of fear…and full of life.

It was as if train had hit him at full-speed directly into his chest. His knees went weak, his mouth felt like it was in the Sahara, and his brain lost all functionality. Everything was failing him. Well, everything but his eyes. They were not only working, but they seemed to be on overdrive.

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes boring into his. They drew him in and he flowed right into her. He kept expecting her to break out into a cheesy grin and say some god awful line about his manhood, but she kept staring at him. Her face gave away nothing, her posture and stance showed only composure, but her eyes were shallow puddles. Not deep pools of water that hid her thoughts and feelings in the depths, but a thin basin of liquid that showed her conflicting emotions shimmering beneath. They were vague and unclear, but clearly there causing ripples and torrents. He kept looking, swimming in it, and feeling weightless as though he were in water.

He was in a dream. A beautiful dream and God he hoped he didn't wake up.

"She's kind of, um… She's been through a lot…with the…death. But I think she's okay." Dawn jumped in hesitantly, breaking the heavy silence.

Dawn seemed to shake Buffy out her reverie, as she broke eye contact from Spike as she glanced down to her blouse. She fumbled with her hands as if embarrassed, and begin to hastily button up her top. Spike, however, was still in his trance. Her small, hurried movements were endearing to him. Her motions were disarrayed, self-conscious, and discombobulated and the things it did for his heart… she was human.

She was Buffy.

"Spike?" Dawn stepped closer into his eye's view. "Are you okay?"

"I'm…" Spike blinked, leaning his head to the left, inspecting Buffy, his delightfully alive and non-robot Buffy, even more closely, "what did you do?"

"Me?" Dawn asked surprisingly, her voice stepping up an octave, "Nothing!"

Buffy had finished patching up her blouse and was now clutching the top of her shirt. Her eyes kept darting towards Spike's - looking at him with those wonderful eyes. He took a breath inward through his nose, basking in her presence, and that's when he smelt blood, her blood. His eyes drifted downwards and for the first time, truly focused on something else other than her eyes.

His eyes narrowed in concern, "Her hands."

Buffy self-consciously lowered her hands and placed them behind her back. She kept her eyes to the floor, appearing very uncomfortable.

Dawn glanced back to her sister, "Um, I was gonna fix 'em. I-I don't know how they got like that."

"I do," Spike cut in tenderly, "Clawed her way out of a coffin, that's how." He ducked his head to bring his eyes to Buffy's level, "Isn't that right?" he gently implored her.

Buffy eyes wavered as she made contact with Spike. She met his eyes for only a second, before casting her eyes downward, admitting, "Yeah. That's…what I had to do."

Her voice… it was another sweet pleasure that Robo-Buffy could never hope to truly imitate in likeness. "Done it myself," he found himself staring at her once again, the faintest of smiles coming upon his pale lips. But as the blood wafted toward his nostrils once more, he shook himself out of it. He reached his arm out toward Buffy, stopping halfway in a moment of hesitation, hoping she wasn't an illusion, before fully extending his arm to her, "We'll take care of you. Come here."

He gingerly tried to lead her to the living room, and to his wonderment, she allowed him slightly tripping on her first step. She had to grab his shoulder momentarily to steady herself, but she quickly withdrew her hand and went towards the couch. His skin was hot from where she had touched him, and he barely could think, although he did manage to rattle of to down to get some medical supplies.

Dawn nodded her head eagerly, as if she had been waiting to be told what to do, "Okay," she affirmed. Purposely, she then headed off to the kitchen…

…leaving the two of them alone. Buffy had walked ahead of him, heading towards the sofa and Spike followed in a dream-like daze. As they settle in their respective areas, Buffy on the couch, Spike on the coffee-table facing her, Spike slowly took Buffy's hands into his own and just looked at them. Her warmth surged into his chest, slowly filling the hole that she had left behind when she had…Spike just wanted to place her hands against his face and press them softly against his lips. But he restrained himself, and found his gaze float upwards to her eyes once more finding her gaze locked on him as well.

Her sweet lips being to form into a question, "How long was I gone?"

"147 days yesterday. Uh, 148 days today," he smiled as he realized what he was saying, "'Cept today doesn't count, does it?"

His eyes were forced to drop down as he swallowed hard. Today didn't count…he looked back up, his eyes full, "How long was it for you…" he leaned his head in closer, "where you were?"

Buffy looked at him, her eyes, those shallow puddles, begin to ripple as she could only softly say, "Longer."

* * *

Once she heard Dawn say 'Look', she knew she had to face the music. So, with only a slight bit of hesitation, she rounded the corner, and quietly made her way down the steps.

After the first few steps, she heard Spike brashly comment, "Yeah? I've seen the bloody bot before. Didn't think she'd patch up so-" but stopped suddenly, as though he had choked on his words.

She saw his big black boots first, followed by his jeans, and of course, his trademark leather duster. So far, so good, all things she expected, things within her comfort zone. But she remained guarded; she hadn't felt him yet. Her eyes were trained on the ominous, black figure at the base of the stairs and that's when her eyes finally met his. They were wide and full of shock. She walked closer and closer to him until she finally reached the base of the stairs. But right before her foot reached the bottom, she was hit by an eruption. But this forceful outburst did not push her away, but instead it drew her in. Sucked her in to be more accurate, compelling her eyes to stay locked with his.

There was a dark side to him, similar to what she had felt with Willow. But instead of being repelled by it, she was…comforted. Perhaps it was because she didn't detect any 'split-personality'-ness from him, but rather an entire being. And it wasn't just pure happiness that she felt from him like what she felt with Dawn, but there was something deeper and more personal. It seemed as though he were revitalized. As if he had been drowning, or had drowned, and she had put the air back into his lungs. It was more than just happiness; it was…a feeling of being whole. Complete. And completely blissfully happy.

And as he had drowned, she felt herself drowning in him. His feeling of being entirely whole was something she missed and longed for, and his bliss was a healing salve. She longed to stay there, wade in the water. But she was conflicted. There were darkness on the edges of the salvation he was giving her. A darkness that should have repelled her…but it was giving her peace. How was it that this _vampire _was the only person, besides her sister, who had the ability to calm her spirit?

So she was confused and happy at the same time when her sister broke into her turbulent thoughts, "She's kind of, um… She's been through a lot…with the…death. But I think she's okay."

She forced her eyes away from his as Dawn's words reminded her of how had she had come to be here. Looking downwards, she focused her eyes to the floor when she happened to glance at her unbuttoned blouse with nothing but a thin camisole beneath. Her mind flashed unwilling in remembrance to Spike's love and lust for her. Hastily, she buttoned her shirt up to the collar. Once she had finished, she held her hand at the top, clutching tightly at the collar, serving as an outlet for her turbulent emotions. Gripping tight, she pointedly ignored Spike's eyes.

"Spike? Are you okay?" She heard her sister asked, concerned.

"I'm…"Spike's voice shook waveringly, "what did you do?"

"Me? Nothing!" Dawn insisted.

But she couldn't help it. His happiness was attracting her like a magnet and her eyes kept darting back to his unwillingly. She tried desperately to keep herself grounded, and found herself gripping even more tightly onto her blouse, resulting in some her scabs on her knuckles to reopen, causing fresh blood to come to the surface.

"Her hands," Spike stated with the slightest bit of concern flowing into his emotions. Buffy quickly placed her hands behind her back. She had forgotten about them to be honest. It made her upset that he had noticed it, causing something else to enter the mix of his addicting emotions. It made her uncomfortable as she realized how much she was feeding off his emotions. She was trying so hard before to guard herself from Dawn's, why was she so willing to be taken in by Spike's?

Dawn gave her a quick, anxious look , "Um, I was gonna fix 'em. I-I don't know how they got like that."

"I do," he said softly, "Clawed her way out of a coffin, that's how." Her heart stopped, "Isn't that right?" he asked her gently.

She could tell that Spike was trying to see her eyes, as to see the truth he just spoke. So, she gave him what he wanted and made contact for a brief moment, before looking away, "Yeah. That's what I had to do," she murmured haltingly.

"Done it myself," he emphasized, barely above a whisper.

Buffy had known that of course; he was a vampire after all. But hearing him say it out loud still made her feel just a twinge of comfort, a feeling of her own, not of Spike's. At least someone knew what it felt like. That was nice… but Spike probably felt triumphant once he got out where as Buffy felt sick and trapped.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Spike's arm coming towards Buffy in a very slow and hesitant manner. It was out of concern whether he was welcome to touch her or not. She wouldn't have needed to feel his emotions to know that. So when he said, "We'll take care of you. Come here," she allowed him to lead her to the living room, feeling his cool hand graze the small of her back just momentarily.

If what she felt was an explosion before, his touch directly pouring his emotions into her was like the end of the world. She gasped silently and stumbled forward, reaching out to grab the first thing to steady herself, his arm. His skin, cold and icy to the touch, still made her hand burn with the intensity of his emotions. And more than anything, she felt his desire to just be with her. However, her body reacted before the rest of her had time to process this emotion. She sharply jerked her hand toward her body and walked onwards to the living room.

Conflicted. It was the perfect word for how she felt as she settled into the couch. Here was Spike and of all people, he was the one giving her what she needed: comfort and understanding. So as she sat down, she could only stare at the vampire, the _evil_ vampire her brain insisited, that sat across from her knowing that she shouldn't feel the peace that she did with him. But that knowledge didn't restrain her emotions at all when he gently held her hands into his own. She watched him close his eyes as if to steady himself only to open them to slowly meet her own eyes.

He loved her. She knew that now more than she ever cared to admit before. He was looking at her like she was the most precious gift in the world. The lost oasis he had finally found after years of travelling in a barren wasteland. But she also knew just how clearly she had laid the boundaries for their odd 'relationship' before. So the fact that he was allowed to hold her hands, shocked not only Buffy, but she could see that it had shocked Spike as well. And as much as her former memories and very being told her to be smart and remind him what his place was with her, she couldn't do it. Saying that it was a struggle to separate Spike's emotions from her own was a harsh understatement. Half of her brain was convinced that she was in love with Spike while the other half, the more logical half, was shouting at her to drop the soulless vampire's hands. Realizing there was no way to ease her chaotic thoughts, she moved onto something.

"How long was I gone?"

Without missing a beat, Spike swiftly said, "147 days yesterday. Uh, 148 days today…'cept today doesn't count, does it?" His soft lips split into an unstable smile that lasted only a second before his eyes dropped down. He swallowed hard to calm himself. When he looked back up, Buffy could see that the beginnings of tears were forming in his eyes. This was crazy, she thought. He was Spike, evil Spike. But here he was, about to cry because of how much he missed her and she could think of nothing else but how to comfort him. His eyes were imploring her once again as he asked her a question in return, "How long was it for you, where you were?"

Her lips trembled momentarily before she simply answered, "Longer." And as he nodded at her answer, her eyes finally went downward.

Shortly afterwards, Dawn came to join them in the living room, her hands loaded with random medical supplies, "I got the stuff!"

But before either one of them had a chance to react, the front door swung open with a bang. Within a moment, Tara, Willow, Xander, and Anya came rushing through, all equipped with worried and relieved looks on their faces. Spike dropped her hands, and the strength of his emotions weakened, but did not leave. However, she could clearly sense annoyance and anger at the troupe walking through the door. She grimaced as she felt an attack of emotions swell upon her as she felt relief, worry, panic, and other high strung emotions. She placed her hands on her head, trying to physically shield everyone out of her brain. Spike stood up sharply, and for reasons she didn't quite understand, she stood up with him and grabbed his hand.

"Is she here?" Willow practically demanded from Dawn as she came through the door first.

But the others had already spotted her, as Anya replied, "She's here!"

Spike turned to her, eyes full of wonder and a question. But more importantly, she felt his happiness wash her anew once again clearing her head of the migrane that had slowly been forming. In a low, desperate tone that only the vampire could hear, she murmured, "Don't go." It didn't clear up the question in his eyes, if anything, it compounded it. But he nodded once, let go of her hand (she slightly whimpered), and sat back down on the coffee table.

Willow tore her attention away from Dawn and came over to the group, "You're here!" She said happily enough, but she gave a glance to Spike that showed her befuddlement over their exchange.

"We didn't know where you were…"Xander explained. He was giving Spike a peculiar and disgusted look. Spike returned it with a smirk.

"You ran away. And now you were holding hands with Spike," Anya stated. "We're a little worried about you."

"Are you okay?" Tara asked sensitively.

"You're not a zombie are you?" Anya thought about this a moment. "Course if you were a zombie, you prefer warm-blooded brains versus dead, vampire ones-"

"Anya!" Xander interjected.

"Are you in pain?" Willow asked.

Tara chimed in, "What do you know about what happened?"

Buffy's head was spinning while this brief and furious conversation was going on. So many feelings were flying at her from all directions. She had no room for her own feelings. She desperately sought out her anchors; Dawn and Spike. But apparently, they too were feeling concern and worry for her at this point, and also some righteous feeling anger. She shuddered slightly from the darkness she felt from Spike with this anger. But her brain told this was a good thing, to remember just what Spike really was… but it was too much. She was shaking her head from side to side, she sat down on the couch with a groan. And just when the chatter was getting drowned out, Spike and Dawn shouted out at the same time.

"Oi!" Spike from the coffee table

"Back off!" Dawn said sternly in addition, stepping into the living room from the hallway. Everyone turned toward her with an obvious look of surprise, "You did this. What did you do?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Willow spoke up, slightly stumbling over her words, "A spell. We a- we did a spell."

"We didn't think it worked, but-"

Dawn cut off Anya quickly, "What do you mean you didn't think it worked?"

"We were sort of interrupted… but it turned out fine. Buffy is here and everything is good," Willow reassured Dawn, giving her a smile of encouragement.

Buffy and Dawn made eye contact. Buffy gave a small discerning shake of her head, so Dawn simply just put her lips in a thin, stern line and simply nodded her head in Willow's direction.

"Really? Everything is good? You leave Buffy to claw her way out of a coffin, and you think its all jolly good?" Spike snarled. This was no good. Buffy wanted Spike to stay so she could focus on a comfort zone. He was proving to only cause tension, and she began to feel his darkness… his demon . So she softly cut in before Xander could began to retort.

"I'm okay."

The attention got turned back to her, and Buffy forced herself to focus on her breathing so as to not get suffocated. With all the energy she had left, she forced the mental barrier up and she felt relief and exhaustion. She could survey the scene a little more clearly. The Scoobies were all looking at her, happy to finally hear words come out of her mouth. Spike and Dawn on the other hand were giving her the 'are you sure?' looks.

She gulped in another breath of air, before she went on to say, "I'm gonna be fine." She paused for this next part. "I remember. You brought me back," from heaven she thought dully.

Anya had an almost excited look on her face, "What was it like?"

"I… I can't-" Buffy started.

"Probably something she bloody doesn't want to talk about," Spike interjected before Buffy had the chance to dodge the question for herself..

Xander had finally had enough, "Why are you here, Spike?" He turned about and said menacingly.

Spike shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, "In case you didn't notice, the bird wants me here." He then grinned. Buffy's shoulders dropped. This was no good. Emotions were catapulting themselves onto Buffy's mental protection.

"Guys!" Dawn stepped in between them before something broke out. "Not the time in case you couldn't figure that one out."

"Right, uh," Willow added, "Dawn's right. We should just be quiet, and let Buffy tell us what she needs."

Once again, their eyes loomed on her once again. All expectant. All waiting for her to be… normal. She got up from the sofa and rubbed her temples. She didn't have the stamina to deal with this tonight, "I just wanna go to sleep."

To her relief, Tara spoke up agreeing with her. "That's a good idea. You, you should sleep."

Willow's eyebrows furrowed. Clearly, this was not what she wanted, "Right. Long day. But Buffy… be happy," she gave a wide and triumphant smile to Buffy. "We got you out. We really did it."

Buffy could only stare at her. She kept reminding herself that Willow had no idea what she had been through. But she was bitter, and all she could hear from that statement was a sense of arrogance not deserved. She rubbed her temples once more. She knew that she was over-thinking things, but right now, she could not deal with it. So she just apologetically said, "Tired."

"Yeah, well. I mean… jet-lag from hell has gotta be… you know, jet-lag from hell," Anya inserted helpfully.

Buffy gave a small nod before she turned to Dawn, "My room is still…?"

Dawn's eyes were confused momentarily, but they cleared when she realized that Buffy was wondering if her room was still the same. "Yeah. Yes. It's your room."

Partly because she didn't want Dawn to say anything and partly because she wanted her sister to calm her emotions, she held out her hand signaling Dawn to grab it. With a slow, happy smile Dawn grabbed her hand and the two of them headed up the stairs, leaving the others behind. Dawn's relief was sweet to her, but she had not forgotten about Spike. So when they passed by the ears of those closest to them, Buffy said softly under breath, "Window. Once Dawn's asleep." That was all it took, Buffy felt an detonation of bliss seep out of him, and she felt herself smiling.

"What?" Dawn asked her sister.

Buffy looked at her still smiling and said, "Nothing."

By the time they were halfway up the stairs, Spike had already exited out the door.

* * *

Spike didn't know what was going on. Not only did the girl of his dreams miraculously suddenly appear back into his existence, but now, it seemed that she preferred his presence over that of her friends. It didn't make sense. He should be apprehensive. After all, this certainly wasn't something Buffy used to do. He knew this in his head…but hell if he wasn't deliriously happy. His lips turned upwards as he thought how Buffy had spoke in low, quiet tones that were meant for his vampire ears alone. He didn't know what he would do with himself before seeing her again tonight. Implode with ecstasy perhaps?

He had just walked out of the Summers' home, when he heard the door open from behind him. With a smirk and turned around to see Nancy boy coming at him with the misses trailing behind him. Instead of stopping and waiting, he kept slowly walking across the lawn turning his back toward the two. Moments later he felt Xander grabbed the back of his jacket with both hands, but Spike had been waiting for it. As soon as Xander made contact, he swept his left hand underneath his right arm and grabbed a hold of Xander's wrist and pulled downward, causing Xander to lose his balance and fall forward.

"Hey!" Anya shouted. Spike winced briefly, the pain only running through his head for a moment. Xander scrambled back up to his feet and then proceeded to push Spike into the tree in front of Buffy's house.

Spike could have very easily moved away, but he let it happened as he just smirked at Xander. So easily riled up, so easily controlled. "I hope you're not going to start up your little obsession now that she's around again," Xander threatened.

Before Xander had a chance to react, Spike reversed their positions by grabbing a hold of Xander's shirt and swinging him around so that he was now the one being pushed against the tree. Again, pain in his head, but it was worth it. "One: thanks for giving a fella the common courtesy to know that you'd be bringing someone back from the dead," he growled. Xander's mouth opened to defend himself, but Spike wouldn't have it. "Two: if you didn't happen to notice, she was grabbing my hand, not the other way around," he listed, letting go Xander's shirt. "I'm just as confused as you are on that."

"You're telling me that Buffy, our Buffy, is grabbing onto you for reasons other than staking you? I think not," Xander retorted, pushing himself away from the tree and adjusting his neckline on his shirt.

Spike got angry then. "And did you ever think that their might be consequences?"

Xander shook his head, "Willow said that-"

"Oh if Willow said, than it must be true!" Spike sarcastically snarled. "You may not have figured it out but I have. Willow knew there was a chance that she'd come back wrong. With the magic I suspected you were dealing it, it had to be very dark, very powerful. Who knows what it could have done to Buffy?"

There was a brief silence to that before Anya grumbled, "I knew she came back broken."

"No!" Xander insisted. "Just give her a few days, and she'll be back to herself in no time."

"Or maybe, she's not the same Buffy." Spike said. "Would you be the same if you were dead and brought back to life? Should we try it out with you Harris, see if you come back fit as a fiddle?" He looked back and forth at them and shook his head. "Glad to see you thought things through before bringing her back."

"You're just covering. Don't tell me you're not happy."

Spike gave a hard look at Xander, "I'm happy. But are you?" Xander looked flabbergasted, but before he allowed him to reply he got real close to his face and spoke quietly, "We'll see if you got what you paid for in the next few days." Without waiting for a retort, he jumped onto his stolen motorcycle and drove off down the street, hoping that an hour would be enough time for the Niblet to go asleep. He heard what Buffy had asked, and he didn't know if he could wait any longer than that.

* * *

Buffy was sitting on the edge of her bed, still fully dressed. Dawn was lying down, asleep on the right side of her bed. They had remained silent up the stairs, and all the way into the bedroom. Once the door was closed behind them, Dawn turned to Buffy with a hesitant look on her face.

"Are you okay?" and once more Buffy felt Dawn's concern flood over her. She was really getting sick of people feeling concerned. But she knew in her head that everyone's intentions were well-meant. After all, they didn't know she was like tofu, soaking in everyone's flavor so to speak. So she gave a small smile to Dawn as she rubbed her forehead.

"It'll get better."

Dawn bit down on her lip, "Buffy, are you sure we shouldn't tell them? They're all expecting you to dance for joy. It's just going to make things harder for you."

"Dawn," Buffy said with a tired sigh. "I'm willing to discuss this, but not tonight. Head hurts." And with that, Buffy laid down on the bed

"Okay," Dawn said softly, and a little sadly. She moved back toward the door, turned the lights off, and gave a small smile to Buffy. "Good night then."

"Wait," Buffy stopped her, sitting up from the bed. Dawn turned around and looked at her expectantly, "Could you… um…stay?"

"You want me to stay with you?" Dawn asked hopefully, a slow smile stretching across her lips.

"Yeah-huh."

And there it was, that 'happy' bath that Buffy was so eagerly looking for. She sighed in relief as she scooted over to one side of the bed so as to give Dawn room as well. Neither one of them bothered for pajamas; instead, they just opted to crawl underneath the covers instead, hands clenched tightly together beneath the blankets.

It was obvious that Dawn tried to stay awake as long as Buffy, but her eyes refused to stay open. Twenty minutes later, Dawn was giving off steady, deep breathing indicating that she had fallen asleep. Buffy was amazed that she hadn't fallen asleep herself. She was so mentally and emotionally exhausted that her brain had all but shut down. However, he body seemed still charged up from the night's killings. It was all for the better anyway, considering she made a meeting with Spike for later, something she could not believe she arranged.

It seemed as though she wasn't the only one confused. She heard Tara and Willow through her bedroom wall talking about Buffy's reaction to Spike and how odd it was. Part of Buffy wanted to shout through the wall 'tell me about it', but she restrained herself. Now that Spike was gone and away, she had begun to second-guess herself as to whether or not inviting him back over was a smart idea or not. He'd proven his emotions to be highly volatile when it came to the presence of the Scoobies. She didn't even know what she would say to him once he got here, but for some odd reason, she couldn't just excuse herself away from him like she had done for the others. Not while he had provided her the comfort she had found rest in.

Eventually, the lovebirds went to bed leaving Buffy is a calm, serene silence. Deciding to not risk waking Dawn up, she opened her bedroom window and snuck out on the roof so as to wait for Spike there. She assumed that he had left the area and would come back once he thought Dawn was asleep.

Settling down, she leaned her back against the upward roof and stared up at the stars that were still just a tad to bright for Buffy's adjusting eyesight. Feeling the cool night breeze graze across her cheek, she closed her eyes and let herself sink into the emptiness of the space around her. It was a refreshing change from the night's chaos. Her senses were coming along better as she heard tree branches scrape together against the wind and insects calling out in low hums and high chirps. It was serene, this emptiness. But this whole 'feeling what others feel' thing was pure pandemonium for her brain cells and she begun to wonder why she even had it. Nothing else was the same from where she was before, why would she carry this one trait with her?

But as she tried to think, her mind refused to cooperate, so finally, she gave up and settled into just closing her eyes and listening to the night.

After about ten minutes or so, Buffy heard a faint rumble coming down from the street. She sat up from her position and focused her eyes on the street through the branches of the trees. It was getting louder and closer, and Buffy cringed slightly, thinking it might be one of those motorcycle demons from earlier. But her expression cleared once the bike in question came into her vision and she saw a familiar peroxide head make his way to the house.

He parked his bike and dismounted. He started making his way toward the tree in the front lawn when saw Buffy sitting on the rooftop. Stopping momentarily, he gave a short wave. Buffy, brought her hand up in short, broken motions and proceeded to give him a wave in return. He gave a soft, warm smile and then continued to climb up the tree in a flash. Once he was level with the roof, he leapt off and landed gently without a sound and silently made his way to Buffy.

It didn't take long for Buffy to feel his joy seep into her once more, but there was a much more restrained and controlled edge to it this time. Earlier, it had been flowing off of him like waves at high tide. Now, it was like a still lake. It still covered her up and made her warm, but there were no reverberations and pulsations. But she was fine with that, it was easier to control for her sake. She made no motion to get up from her position. So, a little unsure, Spike sat down beside her with a few feet worth of space in between the two of them.

They sat like this for at least five minutes. They said nothing and they both just listened to the night. Eventually, Buffy returned to her former position, and laid her back against the roof once more. Spike did not follow her motion, but instead, he turned his body slightly so as to see her more properly. Buffy slowly inhaled the sweet night air through her nose and gently released it.

"Thanks," she said simply after awhile.

"Thanks for what, luv?"

"Not saying anything. It's a nice change."

His lips formed an easy smile, "I'm just a little surprised as to why you asked me here."

Still staring into the stars above, Buffy only softly replied, "Me too."

He tilted his head slightly and gave her an inquiring look, "Do you know why?"

"Yeah"

Spike waited for a moment, "Care to share?"

"Don't know if I can put it into words exactly…"

Spike nodded and did not push her. Instead, he too lay down of the roof so as to see the stars. Buffy was intoxicated. The peace and comfort that Spike gave to her… too bad that he couldn't do this for her when her friends were around.

There they laid, gazing at the stars, enjoying the presence of each other's company. She felt herself truly relax with him there. She rolled her head towards Spike direction and studied him. For reasons being no more than just the way he made her feel, she decided to tell him.

"Spike…" he turned his head towards Buffy and looked at her.

"Hmm?"

"…I….I have all these memories of you. And I know what I felt about you before…" Spike's eyes shadowed, but he nodded and urged her to go on, "and I still know all that up here," she pointed at her head.

She let out a sigh of air, "but I came back different Spike."

He pursed his lips, and then asked, "How can you be so sure about that Buffy?"

"Because I can feel." She quickly explained herself once Spike's eyes got confused, "Not the feel like hear, smell, touch, and whatever, but I can feel whatever it is someone else is feeling."

Spike's eyes only widened a small bit before returning back to normal and regaining some understanding, "So when everyone was huddled around you…"

"I felt like I was going to explode."

His eyes narrowed in a question, "So if you can feel what others are feeling… why do you want me here?"

How could she explain this without making it sound like she was using him? "What you feel…. Well… it's one of the closest things I've felt to peace since I've been back," she said almost apologetically. "You and Dawn that is… but Dawn's emotions aren't as stable as yours. She wants to comfort me, but be comforted. She wants to leave me alone, but constantly checks if I need anything. Endearing, but tiresome. You, you just…"she struggled, searching his feelings and not her own, "you are just happy with me here. You feel—you feel as though-"

"That I'm finally whole again," he supplied, his eyes never leaving hers, his breath becoming shallow.

"Exactly," she nodded, dropping his eyes away from his. "It reminds me of where I was, of being whole." She gave a slight smirk, "Well, except when the gang walked through the door, than I felt like you were going to throw the couch threw the window. Not very peaceful."

She expected some sort of sarcastic comeback with that, but instead he sat up straight his eyes wide his feelings slowly changing into shock, "Just where exactly were you?" he asked slowly

Shit. Her eyes widened as she realized just what she had revealed. Spike's mouth had opened slightly as he sat staring at her agape. She sat up and brought her legs towards her chest, holding her arms close to her body. Unwilling, hot tears spilled from her eyes, but she didn't bother to brush them away. She was too angry. She knew at any moment she would feel his pity and sadness and she would no longer feel her peace.

But instead, it was her turned to be astonished, as he composed himself and instead gave sympathetic smile, "Want me to go beat up Red and her posse for you?" He nudged a bit closer, "It'd give me one hell of a headache, but say the word, and they're a footnote in history."

She stared at him eyes wide and still full of tears with her lips parted in confusion, and then to her surprise, felt herself begin to laugh. Spike seemed just as surprised that his humor had worked and joined in with her soft chuckles. But it didn't last long as Buffy's giggles slowly morphed into small sobs. As her head bowed forward, she felt Spike's presence shift towards her and soon afterwards, felt his arm wrap around her. She dropped her head against his chest softly as her tears poured freely, simply drowning in his adoration for her and his tenderness

"God this is so hard…" she cried softly. "I shouldn't be doing this."

He wiped her falling hair strands away from her face, before placing a hand underneath her eyes to wipe the tears away. His eyes were trained on hers, full of emotion. Full of…

Love.

Just then, Buffy realized just how wrong this all was, which was surprising considering that his emotions were the most predominant thoughts in her mind. She was using him, using his love when she could never return it. He was only a few inches away from her face when with an enormous amount of effort, she abruptly moved away from him and stood up on the roof. She hastily rubbed her tears away with the corner of her sleeve. Motioning back to the window, she said, "I better go. In case Dawn wakes up," she explained awkwardly.

"Right," Spike said in agreement as he too stood up sharply, and looked back to the street. It was though she had slapped him and his hurt filled the space between them, "I have to go anyway."

Buffy bit her lip. One thing with this new sense of hers, she could feel when someone was lying to her. But she pretended to not notice as she gave a quick smile and said, "Well, thanks for coming over," her voice betraying her guilt.

"Still not exactly sure why I had to come," Spike said as he moved toward the edge of the roof and jumped down with his vampire elegance. He turned to face her once he had landed. "Night then."

Buffy stood watching his back turn; feeling embarrassed with how things had played out and stupid for not knowing it was coming. As she crawled back into bed next to her still sleeping sister, she heard Spike's engine turn on with a roar and then slowly fade away from the house. She closed her eyes tight, trying to focus on Dawn's even breaths. Whatever tomorrow brought, she hoped it would be less confusing than today.


	6. The Heart of the Situation

**Chapter Six: The Heart of the Situation**

It had been one week.

Buffy wearily opened her eyes and rubbed the sleep that had collected around her sockets during the night. As she turned towards her clock on her night stand, she let out a groan that was soon muffled by a pillow as she turned over in lethargic frustration. It was 5:30 in the morning. Since she had come back, she had been unable to sleep more than three or four hours a night. It wasn't for a lack of trying. She spent her entire days exhausted, and most of the time, when she wasn't patrolling, taking Dawn to school, or researching random demons with her friends, she excused herself to her bedroom. Most of the time, she would try to take a nap or go to bed early for the night, last night in particular because there was something big going on today… something that Buffy's sleepy brain didn't quite remember at the moment. But more than often, she usually spent these times just being alone with her thoughts and her _own_ feelings for once.

After that first night, and more importantly, after her last encounter with Spike on the rooftop, Buffy had developed a disdain for her new ability. It still had its perks; for instance, the comfort she found in her loved one's emotions. She would begin talking to her friends and act like 'normal' Buffy and as soon as they were happy, she too, would eventually be cheerful. Or at least be surrounded by their emotions enough to make it seem like she was content.

These 'happy baths,' which Buffy had been referring to them as in her head, still worked best with her Dawn. However, she soon had found solstice in her other friends as well. Tara had proved to be a sweet serenity and Xander made her feel like her old self more than anyone. However, Anya's emotions were a bit rampant and seem to never remain calm causing it to be a bit hectic for Buffy to be in close proximity to her. As for Willow, she still was the sweet, heart-warming friend she remembered… but at the same time, there was that hidden dark layer. For the most part, she just tried to ignore it; she didn't want' to hurt Willow's feelings. But whenever her dark feelings were to overpowering, generally, those were the times Buffy excused herself to her bedroom.

But as far as the disadvantageous go, they far outweighed the perks. First and foremost, there was the incident with Spike. She had been so drawn to him and his addicting emotions that she had totally thrown out reason and their history. She just wanted to feel good again, and because of it she was willing to look past her own judgment and the judgment of her friends. Her mind had not been screaming 'this is Spike, the vampire who on numerous occasions has tried to kill your friends and family but who also has developed a dangerous, love obsession with you!' but instead it had been it had been 'Spike feel good. Be with him, I should.' So her new ability with Spike added to the equation made Buffy = stupid. Since then, Buffy had put in a special effort to not be alone with him or even make eye contact with him. And as for right now, she had succeeded in doing just that.

The whole Spike fiasco was still nothing in comparison to the thing Buffy hated most about her ability. Because she was continuously soaking in the emotions of those around her, she barely had enough room for her own feelings. Not to mention if there were to many conflicting emotions in the air, her head felt like exploding. And each day that went by, made her feel like an empty shell compared to that of her friends. With the exception of her first day back, she had felt no personal strong emotions. No longer was she frightened, angry, or depressed, instead she was continuously tired and reflective. And every time she would feel the rise of a high-strung emotion, she would panic and find a friend to make her feel better again. It was a hopeless cycle.

But through all of this, there was still one hope for her. Dawn.

Dawn was the only person that truly made sense to her. The feelings that she had for her now were similar to the feelings she had before her death. Her sister was much more than an emotional fix, she was her purpose. Everyday, Buffy tried her hardest to attend to Dawn's needs. She fixed her lunch for school, asked her how her day was, talked about her friends and cute guys at her school, and in return, Dawn asked her how things were going with her and how her day with the Scoobies had been. True, Buffy had been giving far less back to Dawn as far as conversation and 'heart to hearts' go, but otherwise being a little impatient at times, Dawn understood. The one thing Buffy had not had the heart to tell her yet was about her ability. For some reason, Buffy feared that if Dawn knew that if Buffy was even just 'slightly' using her for her emotions, she might not take their sisterly bonds at face value and be suspicious of Buffy's motives. So being cautious, Buffy decided that at least for now, she would remain silent.

No longer able to just lie in bed, Buffy slowly pushed her bedding away and slid her slender legs out from underneath the covers, allowing her feet to rest on the floor. She raised her arms above her and stretched, curling her toes into the carpet's fibers simultaneously. As she rose, she tiptoed continuing her stretch into the calf muscles in her legs as well. Part of this morning routine reminded her of the stretches she took before her training exercises. As she snatched a hair band from her dresser, pulled her hair into a ponytail, and made her way to the bathroom, she was wondering why she had been thinking about training. Right as she turned the showerhead on, she realized the reason, remembering why this day was special.

Today was the day that Giles was coming back.

About three hours later the rest of the house got up from their slumber. Buffy had already gotten ready for the day and had been watching Saturday morning cartoons for almost two hours. So while they were getting ready, Buffy made breakfast. Well, tried to make breakfast. She succeeded with the cheesy scrambled eggs, but her attempt at bacon ended up in flames… literally. Turns out, if your bacon is smoking because you overcooked it, you should not throw water on it to cool it down.

So after smoke alarm panic and minor damage control, the four of them headed to the airport. They were meeting Xander and Anya there, so the four of them piled into Tara's car with Willow in the passenger seat and Buffy and Dawn in the back.

Dawn raised the sleeve of her shirt to her nose and took a distinct sniff. "I smell like bacon." Her lips went to a pout, "And I didn't even get a chance to eat it."

"It's okay. Because we still had cheesy, eggy goodness," Willow added helpfully, glancing back at Buffy nervously, sending waves of trepidation, "It was very good."

"Besides, if you wanted bacon that badly, there was some left over," Buffy said with a small shrug of her shoulders.

"You mean the charred pieces of ash that you put in the garbage? Along with the bacon grease that melted the garbage bag?" Buffy just blinked at her innocently, "So it would be charred, melted plastic, bacon?" Dawn finished with an eye roll.

She looked out the window with an air of indifference, "I think my point is still valid."

"There was that one piece that we found on the wall by the oven that wasn't too bad," Tara joined in, waves of eager desire flowing into the mix. Buffy felt a tiny tug at the corner of her lip. They sure were keen on keeping her happy.

"Right," Dawn eyes wide nodding sarcastically, "You mean the piece of bacon that eventually unstuck itself from the wall and fell into a pile of dust bunnies."

"Bunnies have to eat too!" Willow joined in, Buffy feeling her nervousness fade into a similar jovial attitude that the rest of the car had.

"And that's why we left it there," Buffy said, slightly tilting her head away from the window to add back into the conversation.

"Not because we were in a hurry," Willow rushed.

"Or because we didn't care by that point," inserted Buffy.

"But because… of the bunnies…" Dawn trailed off, her eyebrows reaching impressive heights.

"The bunnies," Buffy and Willow confirmed at the same time. Willow gave Buffy a grin that she turned to return it to Tara, her eyebrows raising with excited eyes. It hadn't happened too often since she had gotten back; in fact, she probably could count the occasions on one hand, but the point of the matter was that Buffy's good humor had made few appearances these last few days. So the fact that the people in the front of the car were positively glowing with jubilation, she couldn't blame them. And heck, she didn't mind too much either. She felt herself basking in their glow.

Her gaze went back to the window. Dawn had started talking about her biology class assignment. It had something to do with bugs and classifying them, but Buffy zoned out. It was a conversation even 'normal' Buffy would have a hard time paying attention to, so she allowed her mind to wander. Her eyes ended up focusing on Willow and she gave a little sigh.

She still hadn't said thank you. Strange thing was… she really wanted to. Every moment Buffy let herself drift away, she was brought back to earth by her friends' uncertainty and edginess. They still didn't know if they did the right thing or not, and it was getting to the point where she could sense they desperately wanted some type of closure. Yes, she was still bitter at the idea of her friends taking her from where she was, but she knew that her friends would never have brought her back had they known where she was and how happy she had been… but damn it if she still wasn't pissed off about the whole thing. As she sighed and slightly rapped her finger against the window, she had to admit that 'pissed' was a bit of an overstatement for a person whose emotions had the depth of kiddie pool these days, but disconcerted or perturbed didn't have the impact she wanted when she discussed these things in her head. Giving herself a little shake, she let her mind tumbled back into the conversation.

"So I asked my teacher, why can't we just take pictures of 20 different insects instead of killing them? But then he goes, 'Miss Summers, this is a biology class; you do realize you'll be dealing with dissection?' Well, yeah, but I didn't sign up for killing things. Just cutting up already dead things, ya know?"

"Did you actually say that to him?" Tara asked with raised eyebrows.

"Well… that last part was more in my head," Dawn admitted. "But I totally would have if it wasn't for the fact that Mr. Porter has perfected the teacher evil eye," she insisted.

"The teacher evil eye?" Willow questioned with a little smile on her face.

"You know, the look that says, I'm a big evil teacher, fear me and my red pen of doom?"

"I always thought that was a Buffy Summers special," Buffy shrugged. The others gave her an encouraging smile as if to say 'good for you for paying attention' and then continued forth with their conversation.

"Anyway, once we collect these bugs, we actually have to pin them to boards for a display. Like I would want a display of dead bugs anyway? But then in class, we're going to…"

…and Buffy's mind begin to drift unwillingly once more as soon as Dawn begin to talk about the more "science-y" details of her assignment. School. It was something Buffy hadn't really thought of yet since she had been back. She knew the college semester had already started this year, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to go back. All she wanted to do was take care of Dawn and try to regain some normalcy into her existence. She didn't even want to think what an emotional overload it would be to be in the same room as 100+ people at the same time.

Suddenly, Buffy's knuckles clenched together, her stomach forming a giant knot… she hadn't even thought about the other people at the airport. Her eyes widened in horror as she realized that she had not been around more that the Scooby gang and a few demons here and there since she had gotten back. She could barely function with all of them around. What would happen if she were around when all the people got off the plane, or just walking in the terminal? Buffy felt her breathing begin to become shallow and soon, she felt the concern and fear of those around her.

"Buffy?" Buffy turned her head to see Dawn placed a hand on her arm, giving Buffy a direct connection to just how concerned she was. "Buffy, are you okay?"

"Sh-Should I pull over?" Tara stuttered.

"Yeah, you should pull over," Willow nodded her eyes furrowing with anxiety. Tara motioned in agreement and pulled her car over to a parking spot on Main Street. Buffy, in the meantime, was focusing on her breathing, trying to calm down. As tempted as she was to wave it off, so as to not concern them, she did _not_ want to go to that airport.

"I-I'm not feeling too hot," Buffy said apologetically.

"What's the matter Buffy?" Tara said with her tender, mother presence washing over her.

"What can we do?" Willow added quickly, her worried emotions mixing in with Tara's.

Dawn said nothing, just gave her a compassionate, yet very worried look, hand still on her arm.

"Can I just… wait at home and see Giles there?" She asked in a tired voice.

Her eyes drifted away as Tara and Willow gave each other confused, and sad looks, but Willow simply said, "Sure Buffy. If that's what you want."

Dawn on the other hand said, "I'll come with you."

Buffy gave a little smile, "I'll be okay. You go. Just… didn't get a lot of sleep last night," That much was true. "Just tell Giles he better be ready for a monster Buffy hug when he gets back." She opened the door and stepped out of the car.

"We can drive you back Buffy," Tara said.

"No, you're late already. I'll be fine… it'll take me 5 minutes to get back from here."

Dawn was still looking at her with an expectant look on her face, "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" She closed the door. "Now go!" She insisted with a shoo of her hand.

Giving her small, sad smiles and waves, the three took off. Buffy stood behind and watched them go. She felt so stupid for not thinking about this scenario before, and here she was, giving them another reason to worry about her. She raised her head up to the sky, and let the sunshine wash over her face, trying to ease her tension.

She just wished this could be easier somehow.

* * *

Spike's fist collided with the cold, stone wall that surrounded his crypt and made a harsh cracking noise. As blood started to drip from his knuckles, he broke out into a silly giggle and then slumped to the floor in a heap, his leather duster swirling around him for added effect. His eyes went to his other non-bleeding hand, seeing the empty Jack Daniels bottle. He was completely aresholed. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this smashed… maybe when he came to Sunnydale a couple years back after Dru had left him… this made him laugh even more. God, how was it every time he found himself looking at the bottom of a whiskey bottle, it was because the woman he wanted wasn't looking at him.

His laughter subsided abruptly as he suddenly swung his empty bottle to the corner of his crypt. Upon hearing the smashing of glass, he slowly yanked himself off the floor and stumbled to his fridge to grab another bottle of whiskey.

He took a generous gulp of the hot, numbing nectar, wiping the few drips around his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. He stumbled toward the easy chair in front of his new TV (or at least newly acquired) and crashed down it. Holding the bottle loosely between his fingertips, his mouth formed into a snarl as he remember that only one week ago, he had used those very same fingertips to comfort the woman he loved. He had held by the shoulder, swept the hair off of her face, and wiped away her tears.

As she had let him! She had took him by the hand and told him not to leave her and to come see her after dark. So he had done what the woman had asked. And as soon as he let himself be caught up in the bleeding dream that came true, she turned cold and pushed him away. This, of course, was done right after confessing to him that his presence was of more comfort to her than anyone else's. And now, when they've been conducting their little demon hunter meetings, she had not so much as even glanced in his direction. The Scoobies, Xander especially, had seemed relieved that Buffy was not giving him special attention anymore. But they seemed just as confused as he did with the whole hot and cold game Buffy was playing with him. Why had she turned cold? He didn't really know that answer himself, but he did know one thing as he peered at the bottle in his hand—he was still thirsty.

Just as Spike was opening up his gullet to let the liquid fire consume him whole, there was a hesitant knock on his door. Choking slightly on his liquor, he groaned as he got himself out of the chair and stumbled over to the door. When he opened the door, he immediately yelped and closed it again. It was daytime.

"Bloody hell, just how long have I've been drinking for?" Spike mumbled to himself in his drunken stupor. "Whaddya want?" He slurred at the door knocker.

Slowly, the door creaked opened with the Slayer quickly slipping inside and closing the door behind her. Spike looked at her for a few moments, and then looked at his bottle. Was he hallucinating? How much had he drunk?

"Spike?" his hallucination said with slight disgust. "Are you drunk?"

He couldn't handle this. Bursting into a fit of giggles, he backed away from the Buffy dream, tripping on the steps behind him. He fell to the ground hard, not only hurting his ass, but breaking his half-full bottle of comfort juice in the process. "Oi," he stumbled out between chortles, "you made me loose the last of my whiskey!"

He's laughing stopped apruptly once the mirage used her real, flesh hand and pulled him up to his feet. She was looking at him with angry and confused eyes, "Why are you doing this?"

He was just looking at her and blinking. She was actually here? His wavering hand reached out and touched her cheek with the tip of his index finger. Abruptly, his hand was slapped away from the very corporeal and very _real_ Buffy. He stared at her mouth open, "What are you doing here?" As he was standing there in dumb awe, blinking at her, he remembered just why he had been drinking in the first place. A sneer slowly came across his lips as he added, "You remember I exist?" he gave a short bark of laughter. "Maybe you decided to get a git all worked up again just to throw some dirt in his face, is that it?

Buffy's face, whose eyes had looked full of righteous judgment just a minute ago, looked repentant. She started to reply, "Spike, I-"

"Because lately, when I've been helping you and your mates with your little Scooby chases, you haven't even so much as looked at me," he spat out with a glare, but he couldn't quite camouflage the hurt in his voice, as it slightly cracked on the last note.

A little fire turned on her eyes, and licked the inside of his lip in anticipation of a good brawl. She walked closer to him as if ready to grant his wish, but her mood once again changed directions as she stopped once her vision of sight saw Spike's hand, "What happened to you?"

Shrugged, "It's nothing. Got in a bit of tumble." He figured it would do him no favors to mention that it was with a wall.

She rolled her eyes and scanned his crypt until they focused on the items she desired. She guided him to his comfy chair and pushed him none to gently down onto it. "Stay," she ordered, as if he were a dog.

"Hey, this is my place. I make the rules 'round here," he mumbled as he made himself comfortable in his chair leaning his head back on the neck rest.

"Shut up Spike," she retorted across the crypt. She was grabbing some bandages and rubbing alcohol that Spike kept in stock. She came back to his chair and kneeled in front of him. Hesitantly, she softly grabbed his hand and inspected his bloody knuckles more closely. Placing it back on his knee, she dampened a cotton ball with the rubbing alcohol and then softly held his hand once more to begin cleaning his wounds.

He couldn't help it. He was drowning in her presence again. She was so warm and soft…Spike lifted his head from the back of the chair and just watched her dress his wounds. Her gorgeous head of hair was pulled back today leaving her face completely open to his gaze. She was still a miracle to him; regardless of the grinder she had put him through this last week.

"Why are you doing this, luv?" his raw voice slightly trembling from the intoxication of the alcohol and her presence.

Pausing slightly in mid-wrap of his fingers, she continued, saying, "Because you are too drunk to take care of yourself," she responded, noting that her voice was also trembling.

He straightened up his back and gave her a searching looked laced with annoyance, "I mean, why are you here?"

"I was… suppose to go to the airport," Buffy said quietly. "But as we were driving, I realized I would be in a building with maybe a hundred people or more…and-"

"And you didn't want your head to implode?"

The corner of Buffy's lip tugged upward, "Something like that."

His eyebrows rose up at her, "You just thought about that today?"

Her lips formed a tight line as she finished bandaging him up, and she said nothing. That apparently was a yes. Spike continued to study as he quietly brought up, "Well, that still doesn't explain why you are her."

"I heard a crash, though there was a demon lurking about," she said quickly, her eyes focused on the task of putting all the bandages and cleaning supplies back in Spike's container he had for them.

"And you just couldn't stand the idea of any harm coming to me?" Spike baited with a sly smile on his face.

"That I was okay with," she threw back with an eye-roll. She rose from her feet, and walked back to put away the bandages. Once she returned it back to its home, she wiped her hands on the side of her jeans, "I just wanted to do some slight demon ass-kickage," she said, her lip slightly jutted out in her old Buffy fashion as she shrugged her shoulders, "It's very therapeutic."

"Sure you didn't come by for a little piece of heaven," he doggedly said, his eyes looking over her suggestively. He grinned as he saw her get all riled up.

"Did I mention that I was in the need of a therapy session?" her eyes narrowed.

His eyes glared back at her as he pounded his fist into the chair's armrest in frustration. "Come off it. We both know the reason why you are here, and it sure as hell isn't because you heard some soddin' crash." He rose from the chair then and sauntered over towards her, stopping only inches away from her face, "It's because of me," his voice challenged.

Buffy's faced curled in disgust, "Because of you?"

He advanced on her, forcing her to step backward. "Well if not me, than the way that I make you feel."

Her body was close the stone pillar that was beside his TV. She stopped short of it, "What? Dirty? Lewd? Evil?" She added the last with emphasis.

His arm swung towards her head, but instead of hitting her, he braced his hand on the pillar behind her. Her eyes had closed from the anticipation of getting hit. Spike felt a small smile spill onto his lips, as he bent his head to Buffy's ear and whispered, "Something more like this."

She took her last step backward, her back now completely against the pillar. Gone was the anger from her face as her eyes glazed over before she shut them tightly. She silently gasped, "Like what?"

Spike's eyes took on a glint as he raised his other hand in front of Buffy's face. The cocky, challenging grin, which had been on his face moments earlier, now dissolved slowly into a hesitant, testing look. She opened her eyes as he slowly brought his hand to her face. He swallowed hard, and seeing that Buffy made no move to stop him, and softly grazed her cheek with his fingers. Her eyes quickly closed again and she and took in a sharp, abrupt intake of air. He didn't know if it was the liquor or the situation, but he felt his eyes tear up regardless. God, he still couldn't believe she was back.

"This," he managed to say in a raspy whisper. "Something like this." Gently caressing her skin with his thumb, he whispered, "Don't run away again."

Her eyes opened slightly, but her focus was on the floor and not on him.

In a desperate attempt, he brought his head down so his forehead was resting against Buffy's as he pleaded with his entire being to have her look at him. Again, she closed her eyes tight, her breathing erratic. He couldn't help himself, he took his other hand off the pillar and placed it on Buffy's other cheek. Swaying slightly, his even voice embraced an emotional edge, "Don't."

"Spike," Buffy's voice had developed a ragged breath. She raised up one of her hands and placed it on top of Spike's. But her words betrayed her actions as she next spoke, "Please, stop."

"Stop what?" He insisted, a little too loudly in his drunken state.

Her eyes met his. They were tortuered, "I can't do this."

"I can feel you too you know. You are warm, and soft," he continued, not registering what Buffy had said.

That made her snap abruptly away from him, breaking the spell that had been cast over them. Her lips turned into a sour smile, "You can feel me," Buffy bitterly laughed, her eyes looking in the upward corner of Spike's crypt as she avoided his gaze. He became even more confused from her reaction as she ducked away from his hands and started to walk towards his door. "Spike… I'm not sure I can feel much of anything anymore." She turned to him and raised her arms slightly in the air in hopelessness, "How do I know that I'm not just an empty shell? What if one day I wake up, and I don't feel anything? What if I wake up and find that the only emotions are not even ones I can call my own? What if I'm doomed to only feel other emotions and not even-"

Spike didn't know if it was to stop the barrage of speculative questions or if it was the liquor flowing throwing his veins, but he found himself closing the distance between them in three quick strides to immediately crush his lips against Buffy's. After the initial shock, for one glorious moment, Buffy responded back. Eagerly. Her lips parted, drawing him in and Spike savored every taste. Slowly, he lowered his hands from her face, to her shoulders, and then to her sides and gently pulled her towards him. She drifted to him, falling against him. But as soon as her body fully fell against his, Buffy pushed back and slapped him hard in the face, sending his entire head reeling.

Slowly, he brought his face forward once again to face the person who was probably going to rip his head off. But instead he found her eyes were opened wide with fear and her hand going to her lips as if she had witnessed something horrible. Her chest was rising and falling as though she had just sprinted ten miles. Spike's mouth was opening and closing, searching for what he wanted to say to erase that look from her face. But before he could regain even the slightest bit of composure, Buffy turned around quickly and promptly walked out of his crypt.

Spike sank to his knees, staring at the door. His lips formed into a smile as he drunkenly begin laughing once again and he continued laughing until he fell backwards on to the floor, hitting his head on the paved ground with a solid crack. Staring up at the ceiling, giggling like a madman, he barely noticed the tears that were sliding down his face; tears that were not a response to the head trauma he had just received

"You really fucked up this time old boy," he murmured to the cracks in the ceiling. "Reeaaally fucked up."

* * *

Rushing straight to the bathroom, Buffy slammed the door behind her when she finally reached her house. She turned the faucet on and splashed water into her face to soothe her flushing cheeks. Looking into the mirror, water dripping off her face, Buffy inhaled a great gust of air in efforts to slow her beating heart.

What happened back there?

Spike had kissed her.

Not only that. She had kissed him back.

Thinking of the kiss, her stomach lurched slightly and she grabbed a washcloth out of the linen closet. The cloth filled with moisture as she held it under the faucet and as soon as she was satisfied with its wetness, she took it to her lips and begin to scrub. Hard. After wiping away a layer or two of skin, she then began an intensive oral care procedure: mouthwash for 1 minute, extensive brushing for 10 minutes, and mouthwash again for another minute.

However, even after all that, Buffy could still feel where his lips had touched hers and where his hands had held her cheeks. How his touch, although strange and almost frightening to her, sent electric shocks through her body. How his words, although slurred with alcohol, had struck a chord in her… and how his kiss, although entirely unwelcome, had made her entire body heat up with a deeper passion she thought she would ever be capable of again. She couldn't tell which emotions were her own and which was Spike during the kiss, but she knew one thing: both of them exploded once their lips met each other's.

The whole situation scared her to death, but at the same time, she found a grain of hope in the garbage dump of a situation. Spike proved to her, _showed_ her that she could still feel. It disproved her whole theory of Buffy is an emotionless zombie…but it was from Spike, which meant she had become dependant on him once again. She moaned in despair as she trudged out of the bathroom in misery.

She was such an idiot for going to his crypt. As she was walking home past the cemetery, she had decided that it would be quicker if she just cut through… and it would go even faster if she went through the east side of the cemetery, which so happened to house Spike's home. But she wouldn't stop at his crypt, she said to herself, no sir! But when she heard the breaking of glass coming from inside the crypt, she decided to stop in, to see if Spike was… battling something…evil… and required her assistance…?

"Real iron-clad case you got there Buffy," she exasperatedly said to the air, rolling her eyes at the same time.

Although admitting to herself that it probably hadn't help that she allowed herself to get so close to him, to bandage him up, to let him advance upon her, she just wished there was a way to turn this ability on and off. She sighed as she walked down the stairs to head down to the main floor. She plopped herself onto the couch and laid down, her eyes furrowing deep in thought. Maybe she should tell Willow or Giles about her ability. There might be something of use in a magic spell or in one of the old watcher's diaries. But if she told them that, it would prove that she wasn't the same person anymore. And they would know that she would know their emotions at any given time. She remembered how bad they had freaked when she was telepathic for a short period of time. Although her friends didn't want to be around her so much back then, they had found a cure. Maybe she just had to suck it up, and go through with it.

As she was mulling this over, her nose wrinkled as she caught a whiff of the bacon disaster from earlier. Apparently, Dawn's outfit wasn't the only thing that reeked. The entire main floor now smelled like bacon, compliments of Buffy's venture into the frightening world of cooking. Thankful for the distraction, albeit smelly, Buffy got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen. Using her eyes and nose as a guide for missed bacon grease spots; she hunted down the sludge with paper towels, rubber gloves, and counter cleaner.

She spotted some grease on the stove and began to wipe furiously. "Feel the power of Mr. Clean and tremble!"

Stupid, smelly, bacon grease, she said to herself in her head as she was scrubbing. The mess just proved to Buffy that her aversion to cooking was something she should pay heed to. She should have trusted her old instincts instead of believing that things would be different this time around. After all, if she didn't like to cook then, what made her think things would be different now? Cooking will now and forever be a big Buffy no-no! No matter how she may feel around the bacon, or how great of a kisser bacon was, Buffy would stay away from bacon and cooking altogether!

"Stupid bacon…" she muttered absently, wiping furiously, her mind distracted from the task at hand.

"Buffy?"

She stopped scrubbing. She rotated towards the all too familiar British voice and saw Giles standing by the back door, his face shell shocked.

"I didn't want to believe… not until I saw…" his face broke into a wide grin, eyes slightly watery. Buffy walked towards him, her eyes transfixed on his face. Soon, when she became close enough, she could feel his amazement as well as see it. "You're… you're-"

"-a miracle?" She finished for him, putting words to the emotion she was receiving from him. It made the corner of her lip turning upward and her eyes squint from the watery pressure slowly building up.

"Yes, but then, I always thought so," Giles said with a slight laugh, his head shaking slightly in astonishment. They stood there, staring at each other and smiling awkwardly for a few moments when suddenly, Giles hands came out of his pockets and he stepped forward to wrap his arms around her.

Buffy returned it, strongly, holding on to him with desperation similar to that of small, lost child as she swam in his fatherly emotions. "You're alive. You're here. And you're still…" Giles voice became slightly strained from on-top of her head. "remarkably strong," he wheezed out.

Not quite getting it, Buffy uttered a quick, "Huh?" But once she heard the shortness of his breath due to her tight embrace, she stepped back quickly. "Sorry."

Giles broke into a chuckle, "It's quite alright. I believed I was warned about a big hug at the airport." He placed a hand on her cheek, and shook his head once, smiling in the action. It was nice, to feel his love and concern. It was very parental and British. In other words, it was very Giles.

His eyes were searching her face, full of confusion and happiness. Buffy smiled at him, "I take some getting used to. I'm still getting used to me," Buffy admitted. Suddenly, she noticed the lack of Scoobies. "Where's everyone else?"

"I'm afraid that's my doing," Giles confessed. He removed his glasses, and wiped them off with a cloth from the inside pocket of his jacket. "I insisted on seeing you on my own first. They're at the Magic Box.

"Oh," she glanced around his shoulder as if making sure they weren't there. "Should we start walking over there?"

"In a minute," he held his glasses up to the kitchen light, making sure he didn't miss any smudges. Satisfied with the clarity, he placed them back on the bridge of his nose, placing his lint free cloth back in his pocket. "There is something I need to discuss with you in private first."

"M'kay," she said, standing expectantly. She felt Giles emotions turn into an uncertainty and hesitation. Her eyes narrowed, "What is it?"

His eyes looked past her, toward the kitchen archway into the dining room. He gestured towards it, "Why don't we go sit down?"

Buffy gave a quick nod, "Sure." She turned and walked towards the table with Giles following behind her in close step. Once she pulled out a chair and sat into it, she saw Giles hovering behind his chair, holding onto the back, his face showing he was deep in thought. His fingers traced the top edge absentmindedly. "Giles," Buffy said abruptly, snapping him out of his reverie. "Is everything okay?"

His eyes went back to Buffy's, and she felt a high energy coming from him… one she didn't quite understand. Confusion clouded her features as she insisted, "What is it?"

"Well, forgive me if this sounds daft," his eyes squinted in hesitation, "but there wouldn't happen to be anything different about you?"

She froze, "Different…how?" she asked slowly.

His eyes and head went to the ceiling as he struggled to say what he had to next. When he lowered his head to look at Buffy once more, he sat down and gazed at her. "What I mean to ask is… when you came back, did something happen to you?"

Unable to speak, Buffy just looked at him, scared to answer. She had been debating whether or not to tell him about her secret, and here he was, forcing it out of her before she was sure that's what she wanted. So she just looked towards him, eyes not quite focused on him, rather the invisible space in front of him.

Giles reached out and touched her shoulder. She felt a strange feeling coming from him, one mixed with empathy, sorrow… and bitterness. She met his gaze then, and instead of answering the question, she asked him one, "Why are you asking me this?"

He gripped her shoulder tightly and paused for a moment, "Because Buffy…you aren't the first slayer ever to be brought back."


	7. Finding Your Place

**Author's Note:** Sorry it's been awhile. I've been revamping some details of this story, and as a result, I re-edited all the previous chapters. So if you've read this story before and are back for the new chapter, I would suggest rereading the previous ones if you have time since I've change some significant details. I'm excited to get rolling on this again

**Chapter Seven: Finding Your Place**

"Because Buffy…you aren't the first slayer ever to be brought back."

Buffy blinked. She stared and she blinked some more. Giles eyes implored her to say something and he slightly shook her with the hand he had place on her arm. Her eyes fluttered, "Excuse me, I must be hallucinating. What was that again?"

Giles dropped his hand from her arm and put it instead to his mouth, rubbing in a smooth stroke from his jaw line to his neck.

"Because I could have sworn I just heard you say that I'm not the first slayer ever to be brought back." She restated, more than just a little shell shocked.

"Buffy-" he started, but Buffy wouldn't let him finish.

"Because if that is really what I heard, that sort of information might have been nice to hear, say… during any apocalypse I've faced." She felt a righteous anger rise within in.

He reached his arm towards her once more, "You have to understand-"

"Oh, I understand! You must have felt it necessary to have me feel terrified for every major battle, every major evil I've ever faced. Wouldn't want the Slayer to lose her touch, get lazy on the job would we? We wouldn't want to let her know that the end would necessarily mean _the_ end?" she spat at him.

"Buffy, it hasn't been done in centuries, millenniums even. It has been forbidden." Buffy felt herself freeze up, her anger shattering, not at his words, but at the indignant emotion behind them. Immediately, Giles' condemnation turned apologetic at the sight of her reaction, "Sorry," he muttered, "I was hoping to bring that up a bit more delicately."

"No, it's my fault," Buffy sighed slowly shaking herself out of it. "I guess I've had some pent up frustrations since…" she shrugged and sat down at the table resigned.

"I quite imagine," Giles breathed, looking relieved that they were back on sturdier ground and followed her in suit, sitting in the chair beside her.

Buffy leaned her head against the back of her chair and let out a sigh staring at the empty table across from her. The air was silent for a minute as the two regained their composure. Eventually, Buffy returned her gaze to Giles who was staring forward just as she had a moment ago, "So why has it been forbidden?"

At this, Giles got a dark look on his face, and she felt disappointment radiate from the spot next to her. "It is unnatural. It disrupts not only the balance of life itself, but the balance of the slayer lineage." He looked quickly over at her and hurriedly said to fend off any possible outburst, "Don't let me confuse you, it is not you being here that is the perversion. It is the act that brought you back."

She nodded, and looked downward, "Willow," she said softly.

"Willow," he said, the word barely enunciated through his clenched teeth.

Pausing for a moment, she cautiously asked, "Is she…is she okay?"

He shook his head and looked skyward, "The magic that it took to bring you back here Buffy… well, when you ask for a gift-when you ask for a life, you must pay something in return." He looked at her solemnly, "It's bound not only to have consequences on nature, but on herself as well."

Buffy didn't have to ask. It made a lot of sense. The darkness she felt around Willow, the fragmented emotions within her. She gulped nervously, "But _will_ she be okay?"

Giles seem to realize just how nervous Buffy was becoming, and she felt his emotions rapidly change to one of comforting, "Yes. She'll be fine. I just need to know just what exactly she did, so we can get her the help she needs." He smiled at her.

But Buffy didn't smile back. It was hard to tell with Giles if he was being honest or not as it had been with the others. For some reason, she didn't believe he was being entirely truthful with her. His emotions were a little bit too cherry and comforting to feel natural. But she had to admit that this conversation had not started off well, so she could just be reading too much into it. "So that's why it's been forbidden? Because of what happened to the people who resurrected the slayers?"

"Not just slayers, any person," he inserted. "But yes, that is why it's been forbidden."

There it was again, that little gush of anxious energy, seeping out of him. She just couldn't tell if he was lying to her, or at least sharing everything. "Is that the only reason?" she pressured.

"That we know of anyway. As I said, a slayer has not been brought back for thousands of years. There is very little knowledge of these procedures and the after effects. The Watcher's Council deemed it necessary to remove all information on these resurrections so as to not tempt future watchers into resurrecting their old slayers," he had taken off his glasses and to clean his glasses.

"So how did Willow find out how?"

He placed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and frowned, "Just because the Watcher's Council destroyed their records, does not mean there still aren't other accounts out there. I don't want to think of where she had to look to find the procedures and ingredients necessary," he said darkly.

Buffy frowned, something still didn't add up. "Giles," she paused, "why did you ask me if there was anything different about me?"

"Sorry?" Giles asked, as though snapping out of a thought. But once again his emotions betrayed him and she felt that similar nervous energy from earlier.

"Remember how this whole conversation started? You asked me if I was different in any way?"

"Ah, yes, well, I was just curious. As I mentioned, very little is known about the effects of a resurrection, and I was just wondering if you noticed anything unusual or dissimilar from before?" his tone conveyed that of a gentle father, but his emotions were twisted and turbulent as if he was waiting for answer he knew he would not like.

Buffy stood up slowly and walked to the kitchen. She heard Giles get up silently as well and follow her. She stopped and leaned on the counter, her mind travelling a million miles an hour on what to say, debating what to tell him.

"It's alright Buffy, you can tell me," he said softly placing his hand on top of hers. Now directly linked to his emotions, she could tell that even underneath his anxiousness, was still the caring, paternal love she felt earlier. It reassured her greatly and it helped finalize her decision.

"Well, everything from my past, my memories, my friends, my home, they seem familiar and foreign at the same time," she sighed and leaned forward into the counter, stretching into it. "And everything is so much harder than before…" she bit her lip trying not to betray just how much harder it actually was for her. She felt Giles squeeze her hand, urging her to continue. She stretch back up to a straight back position and faced him, "But, I'm still me. I'm still the same ole' Buffy." She smiled almost sheepishly at him, "Just adjusting."

He nodded, the corners of his lips turning up slightly. She felt at once the tense energy die down, but he was still hesitant, so she added, "If you don't believe me, test me."

"Test you?" he asked surprisingly.

"Yeah, test me. Like Anya did. She followed me closely around for the first few days. waiting to see if I decided to start munching on anyone's brains," she said with a shrug.

At that, he let out a genuine laugh and she felt his hesitance leave him, "Well, unfortunately for Anya, she could have saved herself a large amount of time and energy by simply noticing that you had a pulse and were speaking."

"I guess she figured better safe than sorry."

"Indeed," he said with a grin. But it faded slightly, "Buffy, I hope you don't mind keeping our discussion about Willow to ourselves for now, would you?"

"Sure, but why?"

"I'm still debating on just exactly how to proceed. The Watcher's Council doesn't know about any of this yet, and until I figure out just what exactly Willow did, I'm not going to inform them about this situation. And the less the group knows the better considering I'd rather speak to Willow about this directly instead of her finding out my concerns secondhand," he added, his mouth turned grim into a grim line.

"Works for me," Buffy agreed easily enough. They stood in an easy silence for a moment, until Buffy broke it by slapping her hands together. "So, fancy a walk on over to the Magic Box? Excited to see what Anya has done with the place since you've left?"

He eyed her suspiciously, "It's only been a couple weeks. How much could she have done?"

"Hey, don't ask me, things look different to me, but I was gone for 147 days, not just 14," she raised her hands up in mock defense.

"Oh dear Lord," he groaned. He walked over to the kitchen door and opened it for her, "Let's get going than shall we?"

* * *

The next morning, Buffy awoke to her sister beside her. Buffy and Dawn had agreed to share a room while Giles needed a place to stay. It had been slightly amusing when he realized he would be sleeping in a room decked out with Teen-Bop posters, but Buffy had insisted on giving him a bed rather than a couch. It must have done him some good, because by the time Buffy was ready for the day and Dawn was off to school, he was still sleeping away the jet lag from the day before. When she was finished applying her makeup, she walked down the stairs to find Willow and Anya at the table surrounded by receipts, books, Willow's laptop, and a random assortment of papers. They were silently arguing between themselves and only stopped when Buffy approached the table.

"Buffy!" Willow excitedly greeted, promptly interrupting whatever Anya had been saying to her. "How'd you sleep last night?"

"Fine, I guess," smiling, looking slightly confused. She glanced around at the mess on the table. "What's going on? Why aren't you at the Magic Box? And where's Tara and Xander?" she asked, looking curiously at the both of them

"It's Monday. We don't open until noon on Mondays. Tara's at morning classes and Xander is at work. Buffy we need to talk about your finances," she hurriedly said in one breath. Willow shot her a dirty look. "What, that's why I'm here, isn't it?" Anya defended.

"Well, yeah, but… never mind," Willow rolled her eyes. She looked back to Buffy with a slightly guilty look on her face. "Buffy, we need to discuss what's been going on around here since you've been gone."

"Okay," Buffy said slowly and she slid into a chair. "What's up?"

"Well, Buffy, you see, your Mom, she left some money, and…"Willow struggled.

"You're broke," Anya cut in simply.

Buffy felt a surge of anger expand from where Willow was sitting, "Anya, honestly, a little delicacy for once!"

"It's no use slowly easing her into it. You need to just rip off the metaphoric band-aid in these situations," Anya replied matter-of-factly.

"Okay, I'm broke," Buffy cut in before Willow turned purple, "how?"

"Well, as I was trying to say," Willow said, shooting Anya a dirty look, "your mom left you some money. She had things set up really well, life insurance, savings accounts, etc."

"Yeah, I remember her telling me that," Buffy said softly as she remembered when she and Joyce had talked about what would happen in case her operation failed. She swallowed back the memories, and focused on the matter at hand. "Shouldn't have that been enough?"

"Well, it was, for awhile," Anya supplied, "but her medical bills and funeral costs pretty much dried up everything she had. The sale of her gallery went through a couple months ago, and that helped, for awhile anyway. But now, you're starting to drift into the red. You barely have enough left to pay for utilities and the mortgage this month."

"What about food and stuff?" Buffy asked, concern starting to fill her.

"We've been helping with that," Willow cut in, looking desperate to make the situation not seem so dire. "Tara and I took out more student loans than we needed this year, to help pay for things around here." Buffy simply stared at Willow. Willow, misunderstanding her stare, stumbled on, "We would have done more, gotten jobs or money from our parents, but we're both in school full time, and neither one of us really talk to our parents much any more and-"

"Thank you," she broke in, before Willow dug herself into an unnecessary hole. She felt a comforting warmth from the inside of her chest. She smiled broadly at her, touched, "You didn't have to do that, you know."

Willow blushed, "Well, it only seemed fair you know. We live in this house too."

"And I would be charging them rent if I were you," Anya interjected. "The amount that they give is still approximately only 25% of what they should owe you in comparison to apartment rentals and dorm room rates."

"Anya," Buffy said firmly, before Willow had the chance to get herself all flustered, "they gave would they could, and they didn't even have to do that." She turned to look at Willow and gave her trusting look, "They took care of Dawn for me while I was gone. That's payment enough as far as I'm concerned."

That was all Willow could take as she rushed over to Buffy and gave her a big hug. Directly connected, Buffy could still feel the unnatural darkness within her that made Buffy want to instantly repel herself away, but at the moment, her gratitude at being thanked was overpowering. She felt ashamed that she had thought of it as arrogance before when all she could feel now was gratitude and love. Buffy returned the hug, but frowned into her shoulder, unseen to Anya and Willow. These were her friends, and she had yet to say thank you for bringing her back from 'hell'. During the embrace, she resolved she would talk to the group soon and finally give them the closure they desperately sought. She didn't understand until now just how desperate they were for Buffy to realize just how much they had done for her—her, and not themselves. Willow stepped away, her eyes shinning, Buffy quickly turned her frown into a smile.

Anya just looked impatient by the scene in front of her, "We're here to discuss how Buffy can get not broke, remember?"

Willow returned to her seat rolling her eyes, "Excuse me for letting my _human_ emotions overtake me," she emphasized.

"Ah yes, because I was once a demon, I do not let my emotions ever overtake me," she said dryly. Then she tilted her slightly to the side to ponder this. "Actually, that's pretty accurate." Instead of looking disconcerted by this, she smiled smugly at the two of them as if she were the one better off. "Anyway Buffy, I have an idea."

"Burn the house to the ground and collect the insurance?" Buffy offered helpfully.

"Ooo, fire!" Willow joined in.

"Pretty, right?" Buffy nodded and Willow, smiling.

"No, start charging!" Anya said excitedly.

Willow looked exasperated, but Buffy let her curiosity take a hold of her, "Charging?"

"For slaying vampires! You are providing this community with a valuable service, why not cash in?" she finished triumphantly.

Buffy looked blankly at Anya, "You want me to charge people for saving their lives?"

It was Willow's turn to look smug, "I told you she would react this way."

"No, really think about it! Here you are, equipped with abilities that no other person in the entire world has! You're a precious commodity. And if they don't pay you, just threaten to leave. See if they refuse then," she was looking at them back and forth, like a puppy asking for a treat for job well done.

Buffy kept her empty stare, "You want me… to charge people… for saving their lives?" she said again, emphasizing slowly.

"Well, it's not _so _crazy…"she muttered

"Yes it is," Willow said, in a mild manner. She looked at Buffy, "So what are we _really_ going to do?"

Buffy sighed, and said, "I think it's pretty obvious that I have to get a job."

"But Buffy, are you sure you're ready for that?" Willow asked apprehensively.

"Yeah, I'd just… rather it be a job where there aren't a lot of people," she said in a small voice, hopeful.

Willow looked sympathetic, "Still tough getting used to everything?"

"Oh yeah," she said strongly. That and she was pretty sure she would go insane if forced to be around hundreds of different people every day.

"Well, that will help narrow down your job search anyway," Anya said grudgingly, still bitter that neither liked her idea. "But it will be tough finding something that isn't customer service related. Everything else might require job experience or educational training."

"But it's what I can handle right now," Buffy said firmly. She scooted her chair closer to Anya's mini workstation. "So, what exactly do I need to be making in order to support this house?" Anya's eyes brightened at the sound of money, and immediately starting quoting figures. Buffy listened attentively, but part of her was already exhausted at the idea of holding a job, taking care of Dawn, and performing her slayer duties. But she forced those thoughts away. This had to be done, and nothing was going to change that.

* * *

Spike exhaled a thin stream of smoke from his lips, his head rested against the tree closest to his crypt. Shifting slightly, he winced as piece of bark scraped at the none-to-pretty scab at the back of his head. He lifted his head up and placed his fingers on the wound to examine it. Bringing the evidence to his face, he saw that yet again, he was bleeding (seemed to be the theme for him the last two days). Course, pretty much all the wounds had been self-inflicted, either by accident or drunken judgments. He dropped his hand back to his side, and lifted his other hand to take a long drag from the dangling cigarette between his digits. Letting his head bleed served as a necessary reminder of just how much he had fucked up, and he deserved it.

"You wanted to know why she didn't want to be around you, well there's your answer ole' boy," he scoffed at himself, thoroughly disgusted. Oh, it had felt good. Bloody amazing actually. Part of him would have done it all over again, drunk or not. She had just slid into his arms, a perfect fit. And the worse part of it all, she responded back in a way that he was sure he would only ever dream of. Her hands ran up the curve of his spine, sending chills to the edges of his skin. Her lips showed a fervor and desire equal, if not greater, to what he had given her. It could have been the most passionate and real moment of Spike's existence.

But it wasn't.

No longer was she just Buffy, she was a bloody emotional sponge, soaking up the feelings of those around her. Everything he felt for Buffy and desired for Buffy to feel for him had just been a reflection of his own damned emotions. None of it was hers. Or at least not enough to count.

Spike took one last inhale of the diminishing cigarette and flicked it to the ground if front of him. He pushed off the tree and began to walk around the cemetery to clear up his head. It was obvious that Buffy fed off his emotions, got a high from it even. Course these were the same emotions that had originally disgusted her in the past. But now, with her new superpower or whatever you wanted to call it, she knew exactly how he felt for her. No longer could she pretend that his love was something evil and foul, but it was the most human thing about him. At least now, maybe she'd realize there was more to him than just fangs and a notable murder record.

He gave a depressing bout of laughter at that. "Yeah, get your hopes up Spike. That's done you loads of good in the past," he remarked bitterly to himself. But despite it, he still wanted Buffy to look at him like man and to know in her head and not just her sponge ability just how much he loved her.

And hell, he wouldn't mind getting another kiss like that.

Spike walked on in the darkness, letting the night air fill his lungs and energize his body. It was cleansing, after the solid Jack Daniels treatment yesterday. He was eager to step out of his crypt, eager to get his mind off things, and eager to kill any demon that crossed his path… and just as though nature herself had heard his thoughts, he saw something about eight cemetery plots in front of his steps. A very large something.

As he lurked forward and saw clearly that is was a Chorago demon. Easy enough to spot considering the heifers could weight up to 800 pounds and had bright toxic yellow skin. This one, clearly male, had dozens of small venomous horns on the top of his head (females had antlers, which incidentally was the antidote to the deadly, male venom). They were easy enough to avoid. After all, you don't get to be that big and without sacrificing your reaction time and speed, something Spike had in spades. Didn't mean he would go down easily though. That was all fine and well with Spike, he could use a decent tumble.

Currently, the demon seemed to be distracted by something else, so Spike wasted no time. He quickly took off and ran towards the demon landing a round house kick straight into his back. Not hard enough to do much, just letting the bugger know he was there. Spike didn't believe in any fight that didn't involve face to face combat. If he was going to win a fight, he was to make sure it was based on his superiority, not because he stabbed someone in the back while they were looking the other way.

Sure enough, the monstrosity stumbled forward, almost falling on his face. Spike chuckled, "Seems you might have tripped on something, you all right there big boy?" Slowly, the beast lumbered back to Spike, his large brown lips forming into a snarl. "Hi there," he said, giving a wave, only to clench it into a fist and punched him in the face, "Need a hand?"

The demon's face whipped to the side, but he recovered quickly. He rushed forward to Spike, grabbed him by the torso, and threw him into a nearby gravestone. It abruptly turned it into rubble. Spike grabbed the largest stone of the pile and threw it straight back at the demon, hitting him in the head. Apparently his skull was harder than the gravestone marble, for he simply ran towards Spike with fury painted on his face.

Spike tried to push himself on his feet, but he wasn't quite quick enough. The demon reached him before he could steady himself. As a result, Spike found himself dangling in the air, the yellow demon's hands tight around his throat.

"Didn't yer mama ever tell you to pick on someone yer own size?" the demon garbled out, clearly taunting Spike.

"Never -was too good- with -the listening," he choked out, his vocal cords being smashed by the demon's hands.

"Bet ye wished ye would have listened now," he belted, laughing loudly and squeezing harder. Spike was ready to resort to gauging an eye out when suddenly, an arrow shot into the demon's shoulder. With a howl of pain, he dropped Spike harshly on the ground and tried to reach the arrow that was sticking out of his back. Unfortunately, his body mass simply did not allow him to stretch that far.

"Didn't your mom ever show you a daily nutritional pyramid? Because I've got to say, there is just _no_ excuse."

Spike stood up slowly, his hand massaging his damaged throat. There she was, his salvation. Without knowing what else to do, he choked out as much as his voice would allow him, "Buffy," and gave her a nod.

"Spike," she replied, returning the gesture. She was looking at him with uncertainty, and Spike knew that his eyes were displaying the same thing. Suddenly her eyes widened as she yelled, "Duck!"

"Huh?" he forced out, but was soon hit harshly in the back of the head. Stars danced in his vision, and he began to seriously consider how much head trauma a vampire could take within a day.

Buffy raced forward and kicked the mustard demon away from him. Using her crossbow, she smashed it repeatedly against his face. But just as before when Spike had thrown the rock at him, it barely affected him. He laughed as he punched her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of the Slayer temporarily. But before he could lay another hand on her, Spike jumped back into the action.

Although he couldn't see too clearly yet with the stars in his vision, the giant yellow blob was enough of a target for him. He aimed his punches and kicks lower, aiming roughly for his kidneys. These seemed to work a bit better, as it threw the demon off balance. Recovered, Buffy looked at Spike quickly, and at the same time, they kicked the demon square in the chest, sending him reeling backward into a crypt. Upon hitting the stone wall, the demon's howls renewed as the arrow embedded itself further into his body. He charged at Spike, and the two of them separated, so Buffy could get behind the demon while Spike distracted him. Just as the yellow giant swung at Spike, effectively missing him, Buffy clambered on top of him, grabbed his head, and twisted it sharply. The demon's neck cracked and he fell down to the ground, narrowly missing Spike by inches.

Spike went back to nursing his throat, "Nice one luv," he croaked.

She winced and shrugged, one her hands holding her stomach lightly where she had been punched; the other, clenched in a tight fist. "Seemed like you needed the help," she gasped slightly.

"I had him right where I wanted him," he defended.

She massaged her stomach and gave him a sarcastic look, "Alright, fine. But that'll be fifty bucks."

He looked at her like she was crazy, "Excuse me? Fifty dollars?"

"It's a new idea Anya gave me," she simpered, holding out her hand from when she had been massaging her stomach. "It's either that or get a real-person job. I was opposed to it at first, charging innocent bystanders money… but I figure, you're not that innocent," she finished, slightly gasping in exertion still.

"Excuse me, but I never asked for you to 'save' me ," he pointed out.

"I don't know, seems like you've gotten rusty to me. Maybe you've been doing less fighting and more Disney movie watching instead," she smirked.

He scowled at that, "Remind me to tend to your sister later."

She chuckled softly, but it was strained as she dropped her hand. Both of them were standing there, facing each other, insecurity etched all over their faces. Spike gazed at Buffy. He hadn't really been in the state to notice yesterday, but she had gotten thinner and paler within a week. She was holding herself closely together, her one hand hanging freely from her side; the other, still clenched. She had a tough time meeting his eyes, and Spike had a feeling if he tried to get any closer to her, she would back away abruptly.

"Buffy," he hesitantly started, "I'm sorry, about yesterday." Her lips formed into a tight line. "I should have never-"

"Don't," she stopped, although her voice faltered and she licked her lips.

"But, Buffy, I-" he stepped towards her.

"Don't!" her body stepping several steps away from him to widen the distance. She held up her hand, warning him to stay there. Once certain the he would hold his ground she brought her hand to her face and held her forehead. "It was my fault anyway." She bit down her lip, and looked down at the ground, "I should have never come over."

Well he certainly had not expected that. Flabbergasted, he stood as still as a statue, his shock clearly displayed on his face. He shook his head slowly, "Buffy, I'm the one who kissed you, not the other way around."

"But I'm the one who used you," she added with finality. She dropped the hand from her face and looked down at her clenched hand. She sighed. "It's not your fault for feeling; it's not something you can stop. I know that," her fist started to tremble violently. "If I don't like the consequences, I just need to stay away."

"No… no, Buffy" Spike pleaded. Her entire body was shaking, "Buffy, I can control myself, I can, just—BUFFY!" To Spike's horror, she had fallen to the ground and started to convulse. He rushed towards her fallen body, and looked frantically up and down, wondering what had happened. Her body was still seizing, her eyes wide with confusion and fright. When suddenly, she stopped, and slumped. She had fallen into a dead faint, finally relaxing her body. It was then Spike saw her hand, the one that she had clenched into a fist. It was covered in small red holes, holes approximately the size of the venomous horns from the Chorago demon's head.

Without wasting a second, Spike swept her body off the ground and began sprinting full speed toward the magic shop.

* * *

Spike busted down the door as soon as they arrived, ignoring all sense of propriety at this late hour. He ran toward the large table used for research, and carefully laid his previous cargo on top. Not wasting a moment, he ran to the cellar and began searching for a Chorago antler.

Luckily, everything was sorted alphabetically, and he quickly found what he was looking for. He was further impressed when he found that they sold it already ground up, so he didn't have to bother with finding a mortar and pestle.

With the powder in hand, he tore back up the stairs to the training room. Inside, he found a package of water and quickly grabbed the bottle closest to him. Rushing back to Buffy, he poured the crushed antler into the bottle and shook it up. Once it turned opaque and became thick as glue, he twisted off the cap quickly and spread the mixture over the small holes that desecrated her hand. Once applied, he sat down in the bench closest to her, holding her injured hand gingerly within his own.

It seemed like an eternity, even though it was only a few minutes, but slowly, the red holes began to fade from her glorious skin. Spike let out a shaky breath of relief. She would wake up momentarily, as the venom was slowly dissolving from her body. Before she could open her eyes though, Spike brought her hand to his mouth and gave it a soft, lingering kiss, completely ignoring the blood, grime, and antler bits still on it. Afterwards, he just held her hand to his cheek and closed his eyes into it. He couldn't believe he almost lost her again. He found himself unable to move from this position, and instead, just breathed in the life that radiated from her skin, grateful that she had been spared.

"Spike," he heard, as soft as silk. He opened his eyes to find Buffy looking at him, her eyes wet with restrained tears.

"Buffy," he breathed hoarsely. "You almost…" but he did not finish. Instead, he closed his eyes and held her hand more tightly than ever. Gone entirely was the memory of her keeping distance between them at the cemetery. Right now, all he wanted to think was that he had been finally able to save her.

He barely heard or felt her body shift, but when opened his eyes, she was sitting on the bench with him, looking at him with those eyes he could drown in. And suddenly, he felt as if she were with him-really with him. Not as a lover, or a friend even. But she was there, knowing and understanding what he had been trying to express. He felt lighter, as if a heavy weight had been lifted of his chest. And as it was removed, he felt words pouring out, as if to help lighten the load.

"I remember what I said," he said trembling slightly, refusing to let go of her hand, "the promise. To protect her." He lowered her hand from his face, and instead just kept it safely within the palms of his hands. He looked down at them instead of her face as he continued, "If I had done that… even if I didn't make it… you wouldn't have had to jump," he swallowed.

Hesitantly, Buffy slid closer towards him and raised her other hand so as to stroke his hair and face. He leaned his head into them, drawing in all the sweet comfort he could. "I tried so hard to save you," he whispered, "After that…. I'd see it all again and I'd do something different. Be faster or more clever, you know?" he gave the smallest a smiles before looking up at Buffy, her eyes still trained only on his face, tears now freely spilling over. "I'd get so close, but I'd never… dozens of times, lots of different ways… I tried to save you." He choked on the last words, but he was able to finally say, "And tonight, I finally did."

* * *

Buffy hardly knew what to do, she had woken up after… whatever had happen to her, to find Spike holding her hand as though she were on her deathbed. And she woke up with his emotions flowing more strongly than ever into her and her body had tensed herself against them, her automatic barrier in place.

She knew something had been wrong after the battle with Chorago demon, but she had been focusing so hard on distancing herself both physically and mentally that she thought that she thought her face and body heating up was a result of that strain. She looked briefly as her hand that was touching Spike's face, and saw that some sort of salve had been poured on it. It was cold, and sent ice down her veins, but it had put out the fire flowing through her blood that had sent her body into shock.

Her eyes trailed slowly to Spike's face. There were no tears, nor wet streaks stained on his shapely cheekbones. But there were deep lines etched in his face between his eyes from strain of shutting his eyes so tight. His mouth was having a hard time deciding whether to stay open or closed. Every so often he would screw up his lips, as if restraining whatever it was bottled inside him from pouring out. But then the next minute, his mouth would be slack and open, breathing and tasting the scent from Buffy's presence.

Being so close, so directly connected without moving away for so long was chaotic, but eye opening. She felt all the emotions that she had craved similar to that a drug addict might crave heroin. His love and desire to be whole with her extended far beyond any primal, animal sense she had always attributed it too. It seemed to be the kind of devotion romanticized in the great love novels and movies, things that had always seemed more of a dream than a reality.

"Spike," she whispered, partly in awe, partly in fear. His eyes looked up at her and she knew just how much his world was centered on her. It was flattering and overwhelming. She wanted the pleasure but not the responsibility that came with it. He would take anything he could from her and consume her until she was dry. He loved her and wanted to cherish her, but the demon inside of him wanted to own her and make her his once and for all.

It would be easy to reject it if she only felt herself struggle with these feelings, but she felt it within him too. When he was with her, she felt his contentment to be within her presence, but he struggled with constantly wanting more. More than she could ever give him. For all that she ever tried to persuade him that it would never happen, he tried to convince himself a hundred times more. He was in a constant battle with his emotions, and no matter what she would do to him, he would always want her.

She moved closer to him, and once again, her brain was shouting to run away. But by the time the warning reached her thoughts, it became a faint whisper. Perhaps it was easier to ignore because of how close she was to him, or maybe it was because he had just saved her life. Whatever the reason may be, she did something that she knew that more than likely, she would regret later. Removing all barriers and eradicating all her mental restraint, she let his emotions flow inside her, unchecked, unguarded, and completely accepted.

She had prepared herself to be overpowered, to succumb under the weight of his feelings. But once she had opened herself completely to him, she felt him make a place within in. He didn't besiege her mind with his, nor did he take over anything that had been Buffy's. But she felt herself expand, and the vacant place that had formed within her had become Spike's and Spike's alone. She breathed in deeply, and for the first time since she came back, she was in complete ease around the presence of another person. She still felt his emotions strongly, but she observed them; she didn't soak them up as her own. And she felt whole-er. It was nothing like where she had been, but it was reminiscent of it.

Spike began speaking and Buffy gave him all the attention and comfort she had. He was speaking of saving her life, and how he wished he could have done more. But he had no idea just how much he had given already. How he had shown her that she could find a way to live in this world without going crazy, and how it had happened only within the last minute. But her tongue had turned dumb. So instead, she did all that she could to try and send her feelings back to him, letting him know she understood, forgave, and thanked him for all he done for her sake.

Spike had just finished speaking and she was looking at him, crying. There was a singular tear sliding down his cheek, the first he had shed the entire conversation. Buffy, took her hand that had been stroking his hair, and wiped it away in one clear swipe. She gave him a watery smile and leaned in gently to give him a soft, serene kiss of his forehead. She heard him gasp at the touch of her lips, but she held her place for just a few seconds before releasing him. She touched his forehead to her own and closed her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered.

* * *

They were sitting there, intoxicated by each other's presence. Neither Spike nor Buffy it would seem wanted to be the first to break the spell.

Part of Spike was in doubt; after all, this could just be the reflections of his own emotions. But she was still there, still allowing him to hold her hand, and still touching her head against his own. Last time, she had forcefully broken the moment and throughout their encounter looked conflicted and nervous. Now, she was calm and serene.

Spike hoped the night would never end. It gave him fragile hope that maybe there was something between them, something more than just his feelings alone. Part of him desperately wanted to cradle his salvation's face and kiss it gently, but he knew to add anything to this moment would stain it. And maybe it was just him being superstitious, but he believe that once the spell was broken, it would all be over, and he would never be able to get back into this perfect moment.

Of course, as soon as he thought this, he heard a loud noise come from the back of the shop. It was the sound of the back door being closed. Someone had come in.

Both of them reacted instantly, as they dove under the table, opposite from the register. Whoever was coming in clearly had keys, so it was either Anya or Giles. And although he knew either would be fine with the fact that he had broken to save Buffy's life… this moment had been private and perfect, and hell, he didn't want anyone else to intrude. Since it was dark and the table support was fairly large, they were hidden fairly well from sight. They sat close to each other, shoulders touching, listening to hear who had entered.

The loud footsteps came out toward the area where Buffy and Spike were hidden. Spike guessed it was male from the weight behind them, but he sniffed the air, just to be sure. He looked over to Buffy and mouthed "Giles."

She nodded, and set her gaze straight forward, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Spike followed suit as he listened closely. Giles was making his way to the cash register area, and he heard him lift up the separator. Shortly thereafter, a light turned on. Luckily it was a small, dim one that hung directly over the counter and did not cover the entire store. Spike looked down briefly in relief, and concentrated on the situation once more. It wasn't long after when he heard Giles pick up something, followed by a series of clicks.

Buffy looked at him, with a question in her eyes. He mimicked a phone receive to his head with his hand. She nodded once more. There was a lot of button pushing, so Spike figured he must be making an international phone call, he turned to Buffy to let her know, but she put her arm across his chest when they heard Giles began to speak.

"Rupert Giles," he enunciated slowly. He paused for a moment, "I'm here…It was Willow. Willow and her friends, Xander, Tara, and Anya."

He listened to the person on the other side of the phone, "So far nothing. Buffy seems normal. Well, normal as you can be after-" This time, the pause was much longer than normal. Spike's hearing was good, but unfortunately, he could make out nothing but mumbling and the fact that the person speaking to Giles was British and a male.

"I'm sure," Giles spoke harshly. Spike felt Buffy tense up. There was mumbling from the other side again, and Giles sighed, "Well, by all means, send it to me immediately. I believe you have the Magic Box fax number?... Yes, that's the one." There was a sound a small wooden door creaking open near the register. "It's on, go ahead." He said a moment later.

Promptly thereafter, an electronic buzz filled the air and soon, paper was printing from the machine. It took a couple minutes, for it sounded as though 20-30 pages had printed off. "Alright, I got it. I'll give it a look over and call you tomorrow when I've finished…. Yes… Bye." He set the phone down on the receiver, and began rifling through the pages. He heard him give a long sigh, and soon turned off the light once more. Spike listened closely, hearing Giles steps move slowly from the cash register area and back to the rear entrance from where he had entered. It was lucky the rest of the Magic Box had remained dark the entire time. He might have notice that the front door showed signs of breaking and entering. He let out an unnecessary breath of air and step out of their hiding spot once he heard the back door open and close. He turned back to Buffy and offered her his hand.

* * *

Buffy quickly grabbed hold of his hand, and Spike, as though feeling her urgency, hauled her rapidly to her feet. She wasted no time hurrying over to the cash register.

It was regrettable that Giles had decided to come at the particular moment he did. She had wanted nothing in interrupt their peace. But her newfound curiosity over what had transpired almost made up for it. She flipped the same light Giles had used, and looked under the register. She found the phone sitting in place, but she looked further down and saw a small wooden cabinet beneath. She opened it quickly to find the fax machine Giles had been using.

"What are you doing?" Spike said, coming up to her side.

"Seeing what they faxed Giles," she answered, turning the fax back on.

"And just how do you expect to do that?"

"Well… I'm pretty sure you can reprint whatever fax you received last," she said uncertainty. Her knowledge of electronics was severely limited, but she vaguely remembered her father having to reprint a fax one time after she had gotten sick over his original copies. That was years ago of course, but they should still have the same options available, right?

Unfortunately, there was no distinct reprint button, so Buffy had to stumble through various menus and settings, until she found an option to reprint the last fax. She was about to shout with triumph at her newly found genius, but was side blown when asked for the administrative code.

She stared at the machine, frowning. She turned her head towards Spike, "If you were Giles, what would your administrative code be?"

Spike kneeled down next to her and looked at the machine. He smirked, "83745," he said with certainty.

She looked at him blankly, "I wasn't really expecting an answer."

He smiled at her once again, and pointed at the top right corner of the machine. She could barely see it in the dark cabinet, but written on a piece of notebook paper and taped to the edge was a note in Giles handwriting - _Admin. Code: 83745_.

"Ah, I see," she remarked, and shook her head with a smile. "Gotta love the security measures they take around here." She punched in the code, and soon, the machine began spewing out pages. Buffy was looking over them eagerly as they came in. Giles emotions had been fairly in check during his conversation, but when he had said, "I'm sure" she felt that similar nervous energy she had felt yesterday when he was asking about her. Her instincts told her that these documents would hold the answer to the secret that Giles was hiding from her.

Finally, once it had finished printing, she turned off the fax machine and gathered up the sheets. She placed them on the counter before her, and began gazing through the first few pages, hardly noticing Spike looking over her shoulder. Ever since the moment had been broken, she half expected to feel lost and confused by what had happened. But she was still at ease, for Spike still had his place within her that did not weaken with physical distance. It was controllable, comforting, and peaceful.

But her mind became focused on other things when she looked at the next paper in the bunch. Her heart began pumping in excitement and trepidation, "Side-effects from past resurrections" was written on top of the printed sheet as a side note by whoever sent this to Giles.

The first paragraph told of what Giles already had informed her of, that those who performed the resurrections usually became affected. It mentioned how results varied depending on the spell, summoning, or dimension altering used. A side note scrawled on the margin for Buffy refer to page 23 for more information. Buffy told herself she would look at that next, but her eyes went down to the next paragraph. She read:

"_Little is known about the effects on the subject being resurrected. If the resurrection is performed __incorrectly__, results are obvious. Reanimations of the corpse are a common result_ (see Zombies on page 13 was scrawled in the side margin beside the neatly typed text)_, but sometimes in irregular cases the opposite occurs and only the spirit is summoned back_ (see Haunting page 14). _For a __correctly__ performed resurrection (_for Slayer specific, see page 8_), the subject will appear just the same as before. However, due to reasons that can only be explained as psychological trauma, the subjects are unable to function as before. This symptom is shown in a variety of methods, but the most predominant, and certainly most alarming example is that every successfully revived subject has killed the person(s) responsible for bring them back."_

Buffy looked at the paragraph several times, and reread the last line at least eight times. Without feeling anything she looked at Spike, who had been reading over her shoulder. His eyes met hers, staring at her with shock and caution. She should have felt it, but she didn't. All she felt was an eerie calm, a calm that came from knowing that there was only one thing she could do.

"Spike, I have to leave Sunnydale."


End file.
